


The Champion of Doubt (final part)

by G E Monica (J1NXY0)



Series: Dragon and Phoenix Chronicles [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Torture, F/M, Gen, Vampires, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J1NXY0/pseuds/G%20E%20Monica
Summary: (BEFORE YOU START - This is a sequel to 'The Champion of Misfortune' which you can find under the same Pseudo. This is the second book of the trilogy, PART 2 of 'The Champion of Doubt' and will contain major spoilers for the first book and the first part if you have missed it.)Vay'len and Rozaline's story continues here. As a small recap - Roza has reunited with her god-father, Samuel Eldridge to continue her Gardozian Knight training. Meanwhile, Vay has been spending weeks in the mystical city of Vyn'ra with the rest of the Kiezar family, still recovering from the loss of his parents.
Series: Dragon and Phoenix Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629754





	The Champion of Doubt (final part)

**Author's Note:**

> The Old Gods:  
> Viscar – Maker of Yaima and Father of Men  
> Lenos – Mother of Plants and Animals  
> Mear – Goddess of Beauty, Art and Love  
> Alois – God of Knowledge and Cunning  
> Gardoz – God of War and Death
> 
> The Elven Gods:  
> Daeron Fy’reon – Creator and Preserver of Elves  
> Aithera Viona – Mother of Elves and Nature
> 
> The Llichivar Goddesses:  
> Maiya – Mother White Dragon, Power Absolute, Water and Wind.  
> Muraz – Mother Iridescent Phoenix, Balance Ever-last, Fire and Earth.

PART TWO

Relapse

Chapter Nineteen  
Embark

It was early morning, but Vay’len was up and about whilst the Kiezar’s still slept. The six of them had already packed their bags to embark on the next ship heading to Claynore, Vay just needed a bit more time to say goodbye to the oasis of Vyn’ra, and the home that Roza’s family had welcomed him into.  
He sat by the pond in the back garden, the last place that he had seen Roza. I will have to make amends for the things that I said, Vay pondered regretfully, I should not have bestowed so much pressure on her.  
The elf could feel the stare of someone watching him, he looked up at the navy structure of the Kiezar’s house, studying the windows and the back door, yet no one was glancing back at him. Vay turned his head, spotting a bright green bird, perching on the top of the tall garden fence.  
“Hello,” he smiled.  
“Herro,” the parrot mimicked back, twitching his head, “Herro.”  
Vay rifled through his satchel for a handful of sunflower seeds, steadily and elegantly he reached out to offer the green parrot some breakfast. The creature came to the food like a magnet, soon hopping onto Vay’s finger to munch down on the hulled seeds.  
“You’re a hungry little guy,” he mused, reaching back into his satchel with his other hand for more food.  
Behind him, standing in the doorway, Lily chuckled with disbelief. “Making a friend on your last day here?” she teased.  
Vay twisted his neck, reminding himself yet again that he wasn’t talking to Roza. He continued to smile, closing his eyes for a few blissful seconds as he thought about Lily reuniting with her sister in a week’s time. He would be reuniting with Roza as well… he was giddy just thinking about it.

***

The high elf was striking to behold. A rare, lost creature, forgotten by the world, Lily could barely take her eyes off him. Even after losing so much, and travelling all of this way, he can still manage to smile, she mused. Lily tried to remember the last time she had seen her sister truly smile – once when they were children, and once more when Joe had proposed marriage to her.  
“We’re about to load up the caravan,” Lily informed, still staring at the beautiful elf.  
“All right,” Vay replied. He then murmured something in elvish to the parrot on his fingertip, and the vibrant bird finished his last seed before flapping away.  
Lily returned to the kitchen, still not quite believing what she had witnessed. The parrots in Barass were wild and would always fly away if they saw a human.  
But Vay isn’t human, she reminded herself, he’s kind and pure, there isn’t a cruel bone in his body.  
She couldn’t fathom how or why her sister had strung along such a shining, perfect elf. Once they had been the same, inseparable twins, capable of finishing each other’s sentences, but somewhere down the road, Roza had chosen another path. She had begun her Gardozian teachings and had let it rule her life.  
“Becoming a Gardozian Knight isn’t exactly something you dip your toe into,” Lily could picture her sister’s reply, as she slung her big leather bag of clothes onto the camel caravan.  
Lily had realised it for a while, that Roza had started to place the god of war and death in a higher place in her heart than her own family. It had never been easy to let go of her sisters’ hand and let her walk that path alone, to watch Roza mask her pain and sadness behind a ginning mask, to numb her sorrows with intoxication.  
Maybe Vay’len managed to see through that mask? Was my sister still there? Lily could feel the lump in her throat growing, tears threatening to pour.  
“Feelin’ home sick already?” Zach spotted her, stopping dead in his tracks. He sounded mischievous, but his eyes revealed compassion.  
“I’m just looking forward to seeing Roza again,” she half lied, “I hope she has been getting on okay without us.”  
Her brother smirked slightly before returning to fastening their food supplies inside the caravan. “I’m sure she is fine. She’s the toughest of us all.”  
“Is she, really?”  
“Aye. Don’t tell her I said that, though,” Zach grinned coyly.  
Lily walked back to the house to check that she hadn’t forgotten anything important, her mind still full of worry, she almost slammed into Vay.  
“Sorry,” Lily cringed, avoiding the elf’s eyes, she hurried on inside.  
“I don’t know what has gotten into her lately,” Zach sighed, taking a step back from the caravan to examine his work.  
Logan rushed outside, “Don’t leave me behind again,” he pleaded.  
“That was one time!” Theo barked.  
Georgia suppressed a laugh as she paid the confused looking caravan driver the coin that he was owed.  
“Here, Logan,” Vay stooped down, so that he wasn’t towering over the boy. He reached into his satchel and produced a small notebook, with a pale green fabric cover. “I made this for you.”  
“Another book?” Logan asked with curiosity, “But there isn’t any words in it?”  
“You write your own in it,” he encouraged, handing Logan a green quill and some dark ink. “Every wizard needs to start their spell book at some point,” he winked.  
“Really? Do you think I’ll really be able to do magic one day, Vay?”  
“If you start now, you’ve got plenty of time to learn,” he replied.  
“Are you corrupting my son, again?” Theo laughed, feeling his way along the caravan with his fingertips, to take a seat in the back.  
“Certainly not, Sir Kiezar,” Vay said playfully, feeling increasingly more comfortable around the noble family. He climbed into the caravan with them, and began to dread the journey across the sea. 

Chapter Twenty  
Shatter

Roza tumbled down the narrow tunnel, losing track of time, until she landed in a large cavern. She was surrounded by dirt and bones, the air was thin and foul smelling.  
The impact had shattered her knees, but her vampiric body slowly began to restore itself. She couldn’t tell if Sam had fallen down as well, or if the sinkhole had pulled only her down.  
“You are different, somehow,” a voice rasped, entering the burial caverns. “You don’t succumb to your thirst, you do not answer the calling.”  
Roza attempted to get up, sharp pain shuddering down her broken legs.  
The Moriquen stopped a safe distance away, watching her struggle to stand. She quickly recognised him as the warlock that had taken Vay and tortured him.  
“Tolath was convinced that he had defeated you,” Kareth sneered, “Look at you now. You’re an abomination, a creature of the darkness, just like us.”  
She finally stood, knees shaking, readying to strike.  
“Humiliating, really. How did something as weak as you, manage to slay my daughter, Soros?” the warlock sounded genuinely curious.  
“I got lucky, I guess,” Roza growled through her agony. “Are you done with your monologue now?”  
“Yes,” he hissed, reaching out.  
Roza charged forwards, but a set of invisible claws dug into her shoulders, dragging her back to the pile of bones. The warlock’s magic forced her down, snapping each and every bone in her body. She would have blacked out from the intense pain, but somehow the Moriquen was keeping her conscious.  
Kareth lazily sauntered towards her broken body, snatching the four swords from her belt. “You won’t be needing these, anymore,” he said, turning to face another white haired elf. His last remaining offspring, Tolath Volthan.  
“Take these to the lava pits, destroy them,” he ordered his son, in the common language just to taunt his prey.  
A pitiful cry escaped from Roza’s throat, “No.”  
“What is a Gardozian Knight, without their galdarkas?” Kareth mocked.  
She still had Vynna’s dagger, tucked on the back of her belt, if only she could move – her mind told her limbs to move, but she physically couldn’t do it.  
The powerful Moriquen then left her there, a boulder rolling behind him to shut her in. The piercing claws vanished from her shoulders, but all Roza could do was lay there and wait for her body to fix back together.  
Rage near consumed her. Powerless to do anything, she seethed motionlessly.  
After a while, Kareth returned, dragging with him another prisoner.  
Roza tilted her eyes down to the entranceway, praying that it wasn’t her god-father.  
The gods weren’t on her side, not even luck could help her now, as Sam was thrown down at her immobilised feet.  
“Roza…” he gasped breathlessly, his hands felt for her in the darkness. She had almost forgotten that her eyesight was better than any human’s. Sam gasped again as his hands met with the sharp bones that were sticking out of her legs, her body a twisted, wretched mess. “What have you done to her?”  
“Let him go,” Roza croaked. He was wounded as well, she could scent and see the blood oozing from his back. It was almost too hard for her to concentrate. The temptation was overwhelming.  
“I’ll let you decide your fate,” Kareth rasped, departing once again.  
“Wait, you can’t leave her like this,” Sam rushed to the boulder that was sliding into place, “She’ll die in here.”  
“Sam,” Roza called him back, every word was a stabbing pain in her chest. “Underneath me is a dagger.”  
He stumbled in the dark, reaching her once again, his hands shaking as he carefully searched beneath her. “I’ll make it quick,” he murmured, stroking the hair away from her face.  
She wanted to laugh – the absurdity of their situation was enough to make her laugh – but she coughed up blood instead. “It’s no use. I can’t die,” she finally managed to murmur back.  
“Wh-why not?”  
“Vampire.”  
The ornate dagger almost slipped from his hand. “Then, you need my blood to heal?”  
“That’s what Kareth wants…” she winced.  
“You have to bite me to turn me, but I can just use the dagger to give you blood,” Sam offered in desperation.  
“I don’t think it will matter, once I’ve got the taste for human, there is no going back. I’ve seen how it has changed Michael,” she said feebly.  
“Michael as well?” he exclaimed, “When were you going to tell me?”  
“Please don’t be mad…”  
“I’m not mad,” he reassured her quickly, “I’m just – I – does your father know?”  
“Does it matter now?” she masked her pain and regret with a locked-jaw grin.  
“Yes, because I’m going to get us out of here,” Sam promised.  
“Aye, my family knows,” she said with a pained sigh.  
Sam moved the dagger to his own belt, debating what to do next. “I can barely see, but I can still try to set your bones back. You might heal quicker that way, but it is going to hurt.”  
“I think that’s an understatement,” she uttered with a grimace of a grin. “I’m ready.”

***

Roza passed out several times, but never for a long period of time. Her vampiric body was more alert in the darkness. She would awake again and again to the same excruciating pain every time her god-father snapped a new bone back into place. Every passing moment her anger got worse, almost losing all sense of who she was to the pain. What Belinda and Gustav had subjected her to under the Raydon palace, was nothing compared to this.  
Her blood covered Sam’s hands, she could hear his laboured breathing as he physically and mentally exerted himself to put her body back together.  
She knew the pain could be over if she took some of his blood instead. Her arms began to find function again, it would be so easy to overpower him…  
Then it would all be over.  
Roza propped her torso up on her elbows, bracing for her final leg to be cracked back into place.  
“I’m sorry, it is nearly over,” he panted.  
She gritted her teeth, Sam lined up her leg and eased the bone back into place. Tears streamed from her eyes, before she blacked out for a split second, resurfacing back to the pain and the confusion and the hunger. The sheer, overwhelming hunger.  
“Shall I check your ribs?” he offered.  
Roza reached out, supporting her arm on his broad shoulder. “Better not risk it,” she said wearily, “I love you, Sam.”  
He was taken aback briefly, her words slowly sinking in, until Sam’s stoic and calm attitude shattered. Tears began to fill his eyes, “I love you, too. I’m so proud of you.”  
She managed to curl her arm around him, resting her head in his chest. His heart beating heavily, almost inside her own head.  
Sam ran a hand down the back of her hair, and it was an effort not to wonder what his blood would taste like on her tongue. Just as it had been when she had embraced Vay on the night of her transformation, she had absorbed the very essence of him, only to crave more. She had to pull away from Sam before that other side of her took over.  
Roza glued her hands to her sides, calming down the urge within her. “They are going to destroy our galdarkas.”  
“They can try,” Sam uttered, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve. “They are near indestructible weapons.”  
“I don’t think the same can be said for the blades that my uncle made for me,” she said with another deep sigh. 

Chapter Twenty-One  
Clear Skies

Vay’len had miraculously made it through the night.  
Every time he tried to rest and reenergise in his trance-like state, the transport ship would hit a wave at high speed and he would end up hurling his guts up again.  
Georgia Kiezar had advised the elf to stay in the middle of the ship, where it was less rocky, and to look out at the water to ease his seasickness. She frequently checked on him, bringing cups of water to keep him hydrated.  
Vay felt as though Roza’s mother had adopted him into the family, taking care of him as if he was one of her own children. He didn’t mind it. In fact the unconditional love that the Kiezars showed towards him was just what he needed to get him through his darker days.  
He wished that he could express his gratitude towards them, but he could barely stand up on the deck of the fast ship. Vay would only wobble from side to side, never fully balancing his feet. He had no hope of speaking either, every time he opened his mouth another fresh bout of nausea would plague him.  
Vay was sure that he must look a mess. After his restless night, his usual wash and comb felt like too much of an effort. He could use magic to make his appearance seem more immaculate, but he could barely get his thoughts straight. How will I ever pull off magic in this state?  
He glared off into the distance, damning each and every wave that hit their ship. There was no land in sight, not even a single rock. Only a clear sky and miles upon miles of water. There has to be a better way to travel, Vay speculated within his clouded mind.  
“I’m starting to think that we won’t ever get the old Roza back,” Lily’s voice carried from the upper deck of the Barassian ship.  
“In what way?” her mother asked.  
“She used to be happy when she had Joe,” the twin speculated, “And when they had a baby on the way… I was so happy for her, too. But now… can vampires even have children?”  
“I don’t think so,” Georgia said, trying to remain a pillar of strength for her family, she did not let the worries break her down. “Roza takes after your father, my dear. Both of them find if very hard to ever feel like they have accomplished their ambitions and just settle with their own happiness. They both prefer to make the people around them happy and hopeful, because they both know that they will never feel truly complete.”  
“So what are my brothers and I? Selfish toads?” Lily joked.  
“No, you are just as caring, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this chat,” Georgia said with a light bit of laughter. “I’d like to think that you got all of your best qualities from me.”  
“Such as?”  
“Great hair,” her mother replied playfully.  
Vay rested his elbows on the side railing of the ship, not meaning to eavesdrop on the mother and daughter. Only he was afraid of walking to the other end of the ship and losing all of the water he had just drunk.  
“So you don’t think Roza would mind if I got married and started a family of my own? The thought of it just makes me feel so guilty,” Lily admitted her concerns.  
“I think she would be happy for you,” Georgia replied without hesitation. “Why? Did you have someone in mind?”  
“I don’t know,” she said coyly, “Anything could happen in Claynore.”  
They exchanged excited laughter, before Georgia’s reassuring tone returned. “Don’t worry about your sister. I think Vay’len will get through to her.”  
“Where you and I, and not even Papa can?”  
Her mother paused for a moment, and Vay really wasn’t sure if he was ready to overhear anything more.  
“If Vay is anything like his mother; a helper and a healer, just as Joe was to Roza. We’re a family that fights and trains to be the very best protectors. When war summons us, the Kiezars will be ready. But when there isn’t a war, Roza doesn’t know what to do with her down time. She drinks and gambles and sleeps around because no one has taught her anything else. You’d find it hard to believe, but your father used to be that way,” Georgia said with mocking scepticism.  
“And you showed him how to relax?”  
“I presume so. Things might have been different if he had never lost his eyesight.”  
“I doubt he would have found anyone more glamorous than you,” Lily assured.  
“You flatter me,” Georgia chuckled.  
“Are you two coming down for lunch?” Zachary called to his sister and mother, as he marched along the damp deck.  
“We’re on our way,” Georgia replied.  
The young man spotted Vay clinging to the railings and grinned broadly. “Will you be joining us, too?”  
“No. No, I don’t even want to think about food,” the elf grumbled, losing all colour from his face once again.  
Zach’s grin turned slightly wicked, but his earthy green eyes glimmered with glee. Vay might as well have been locking eyes with Roza for a split second. So full of life and energy, he thought, the Kiezars are so full of life.  
Vay turned back to the sea, watching the sunlight bounce off the mirror of water in ripples. He hated that he couldn’t place a rhythm to the choppy waves. The reflections of light scattered in all manner of angles, without a set pattern. Chaotic. The path for his future now felt just as aimless. Vay felt like pieces of driftwood, letting the sea decide his fate.  
If Vay is anything like his mother… a helper and a healer, just as Joe was to Roza, Georgia’s words lingered in his mind. He doubted his own ability to be able to offer Rozaline the support that she needed. His own grievances were so fresh and raw for the loss of his family, Vay was sure that he needed her to guide him. We need each other, he speculated, I hope so, anyway.  
He knew one thing for sure; he would not give up until he had found a cure or at least a way for her to cope better with her vampiric curse. 

Chapter Twenty-Two  
Desecration 

Across the Lletvian Sea, deep underground, void of light and water, Sam and Roza continued to plan their way of escape.  
“We could climb our way out?” Roza suggested, running her hand along the walls of their thick clay prison.  
Sam turned towards the sound of her voice. “Are there ridges to climb it?”  
“Only near the top,” she said, “But then we would have to dig our way out. The hole that opened beneath us, has been closed back up.”  
“I had no idea that the Moriquen were capable of such magic,” Sam voiced his concern. “What is stopping them from destroying the city with a sinkhole?”  
“That’s exactly why we need to get out of here and warn the empress,” Roza replied with determination, moving to the pile of stacked up bones in the middle of the cavern.  
“Do you think Aryn saw us go down?”  
“I’m not sure,” Roza retorted, “If he did, the bastard is taking his time to get us out of here.”  
In the darkness, Sam heard a snap that sent his heart racing. “What was that?”  
“Sorry, it was me. There are bones over here. We could use them like ice picks to climb our way up,” she said, cracking another long piece of bone across her knee.  
Sam rolled his eyes out of habit, “Of course a Kiezar would have no problem with desecrating burial remains.”  
“Their souls are with the gods now, they have no need of their bones,” she argued, handing him the pieces of bone.  
Her god-father tested her theory, hacking at the wall with the pointy broken end of the bone. Eventually he resorted to bashing them in with the pummel of the elven dagger. “It’s working. Make some more, and we can build a sort of ladder up the wall.”  
Roza sifted through the pile of time aged bones, using ribs, leg and arm bones were best. “If someone told me I would be spending my evening searching through other people’s bones… I probably would have believed them,” she chortled.  
“Roza,” Sam whispered urgently, “I think someone is coming.”  
He hid the dagger in his boot and straightened up, covering their escape route with his back, as the boulder keeping them trapped began to roll to one side.  
“Back on your feet, I see,” Kareth entered, a pair of his vampiric minions lurking behind him.  
“Don’t hurt her,” Sam demanded.  
“Is that a threat?” the warlock seemed mildly amused. He raised his hand lazily, and the phantom claws returned, piercing into the knight’s shoulder blades.  
Roza could scent the blood – sweet like honey to her now – “Leave him,” she fought.  
To his credit, Sam remained standing and did not scream. Everything about his Gardozian training had made him defiant to torture and pain.  
Kareth used his cursed magic to drag Sam towards the exit, right into the path of the two vampires. They both grappled his arms, but the Gardozian knight did not give up struggling.  
“Were you creating some sort of escape?” Kareth hissed, glancing at the bones fixed into the wall. “Do you think that I would allow you to leave?”  
“I mean, it isn’t very entertaining around here. All the other guests are dead,” Roza grinned with that same defiance, gesturing to the mixed pile of bones. “Not to mention, there is a disconcerting lack of alcohol at this party.”  
Kareth pushed out in front of him, without coming into contact with anything but the stale air, yet Roza felt those invisible claws smash her backwards. She slammed against the same wall that they had been planting the bones. Three of them punctured through her back, and a fourth pierced through her arm, pinning her against the clay.  
Sam roared with anger from the doorway. Roza had never seen or heard such a noise come from her god-father, never thought it possible.  
She could feel the blood trickling down her back, ignoring the pain, Roza ripped her body free from the bones and launched herself at the Moriquen.  
“Stop,” Kareth ordered, holding out a long nailed finger towards Sam’s neck. “What is this flea to you?” he directed the question at Roza.  
She skidded to a halt, looking into Sam’s eyes and then up at the warlock. Words failed her for a moment, not even a grin could mask her terror.  
“You clearly care too much for him, otherwise you would have drunk from him,” he considered. “I should rip his heart out, so then you will know the pain I went through.”  
“What – what did I even do to you?” Roza puzzled, almost exhausted by the confusion.  
“You murdered Soros. My only daughter,” Kareth hissed bitterly.  
“But she murdered Vay’len’s parents,” she shouted back at him. “What was I supposed to do? Invite her to stay for breakfast and talk things out?”  
“You are a mere speck of life,” he began to spit with rage, stepping closer to her, “A blink of an eye, compared to an elf.”  
“Yet, I still sliced Soro’s open with her own blade,” she taunted, “That’s why you’re so pissed off? Because someone as insignificant as I, wasted your daughter in one clean strike.”  
Kareth shrieked in fury, spouting curses in his own elven tongue, thrashing his long nails across Roza’s body.  
Each strike was devastating. She held up her arms to shield her face, but the phantom claws ripped through her flesh like knives. Roza’s arms were torn to shreds, then her abdomen and he legs were cut open. The Moriquen sent a strike across her face and she lost her vision for a while, stumbling onto her knees. Her own blood began to pool around her.  
She listened to Kareth unleash his rage with every strike. She could hear Sam sobbing at the sight of it all. It had worked though, she managed to string a thought together through the agony, I directed his rage against me, instead of Sam.  
Kareth eventually composed himself, ordering his minions to take Sam away. The boulder shut behind him, leaving Roza alone with the terrible Moriquen.  
He loomed over her blood soaked body.  
Her wounds began to slowly close back up. She wondered how much more blood could she possibly lose, where was it all coming from? Roza extended her hands out behind her, feebly dragging her body away from her torturer.  
“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, aye?” she said, her own blood dribbling into her mouth. It tasted tangy and sour, barely enough to sustain her. “I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time – I’m the champion of misfortune – I’m always at fault, always at blame, always suffering for consequences that I never planned for.”  
Roza held her bloodied palms up to Kareth, almost admitting defeat, almost. “I never meant to wrong you, I was just defending my friend. Do you not see that?”  
He was slow to respond, still coming down from his rage. He brushed a long piece of his white hair back behind his elongated ear, “Were you not trained for war, against my kind?”  
“I train for war against anyone that my empire chooses. I am born, I live and die for my empire. I’m a nobody, really,” she admitted. Roza began to laugh weakly, “I’ve already endured so much… you’d be doing me a favour by ending my existence, really.”  
The elf appeared taken aback, “Out of all of your kind, I’ve never encountered one as strange as you. You do not fear death? You do not beg me for mercy?”  
“You cannot break, what is already broken,” she panted, her lips twisting into a grin.  
“Give it time,” Kareth uttered, taking interest in the sleeves of his matte black robes. “Was it all worth it?”  
Roza frowned with confusion. She hadn’t anticipated this calm, civilized side to the warlock. Perhaps that now all of his anger and frustration had been spent on shredding her flesh apart, he was ready to be rational. “Was what worth it?”  
“All of this,” he gestured down at her wounds, “To defend the life of an Eladrin.”  
“It’s – it’s all I’m good for,” she replied. It was true, it had been the same thing that she had told Vay’len months ago.  
No, I refuse to believe that. You’re worth so much more… he had tried to tell her, but she had barely heard it. She had vowed to protect him and avenge his family. I’m not doing very well, so far with that…  
“Do you think that an Eladrin will care about what happens to you?” Kareth questioned, scowling as if the very name of the other race of elves pained him. “Do you think that they will leave the seclusion of their forest to aid you? You are nothing but a pawn to them.”  
“And you’re any better? At least Eladrin don’t capture people and make them their slaves.”  
“As far as you know, anyway…” his voice croaked, “After all, aren’t Sylvans worse, for killing and eating humans? They even eat their own kind. We wouldn’t dare lower ourselves to that level.”  
“What do you eat down here? Moles?” Roza found herself asking with bemusement.  
“Not far off,” Kareth said, crouching down on the balls of his feet, so that their eyes were level. “Besides, your kind had no qualms about enslaving Llichivar. Yet, we are the barbaric race?”  
She blinked slowly, examining his sharp teeth, and his almost as sharp features. His chin was long and narrow, his purple skin scarred, yet smooth and without a single sign of facial hair.  
“You would send them underground to dig gems for greed. We enslave weaker species in order to survive our captivity down here,” he continued. “We weren’t always this way, but Nailir and those other elves would never let the truth be out. We were the first elves to ever expand beyond our own forest, and we were chastised for it. We were the first to rise up and defend our lands from you human pests, yet the Eladrin sided against us, locking us away in the darkness. Turning us in to what we are now. Yet, look how your kind has spread and conquered and destroyed the land. I’m sure the Eladrin regret their choice now, resenting all humans.”  
Roza had no idea, had never considered it. She knew vaguely about elves going to war against each other, thousands of years ago, most of the battles had become myths and legends. She continued to examine the Moriquen, his glowing red eyes, his frail body.  
“You see now, that you have involved yourself in a war between two families? Hatred that has been brewing for thousands of years, that you interfered with,” he accused. “As much as it pains me to admit it, we are the same. You kill your own kind, for what ever reason; for country, king or empire. Do you actually think that your gods are real? Wouldn’t it have been convenient for your first ever emperor to have created deities, to distract and control his subjects? Aren’t you a slave to the rule of your empress now?”  
“It was my choice to serve, and protect,” Roza debated. “You’re talking to a child of two people who met each other on the battlefield. Grudges aren’t healthy. Anyway, shouldn’t you be happy now that Vynna and Cezar are dead?”  
Kareth opened his mouth briefly, but shut it again, before turning very still. Roza was sure that the elf was about to admit something, but doing so would put too many of his cards on the table. She had played enough poker to know when someone was holding back or bluffing.  
“But you need Vay’len still?” she guessed, “To fully break the magic that his great-grandfather placed on all Moriquen?”  
“Ananette set us free,” he said with defiance.  
“I thought you said gods weren’t real,” she mocked. Her wounds almost gone, she was beginning to feel her usual self again.  
“Ananette is a powerful demon, that will never truly die,” Kareth clarified.  
“I’m glad that we got that cleared up. So as it stands now, you’re planning to trade my life for Vay’s?”  
“Are you delusional enough to imagine that an elf would sail across the sea?” he scoffed. “I want you, in my army. You would never go without a drink of blood. You would never have to suffer for the mistakes of others. You are a child of the night, come join your brothers and sisters.”  
“Hmm… banished underground, forced to eat mole stew with a pack of mindless vampires? I’ve got to say, you’re not really sellin’ it to me,” she said mischievously. “Won’t you just control my mind, like the rest of your undead minions?”  
“As I said, there is something different about you,” Kareth said, pointing a long finger at her collar, “Insignificant as you are.”  
Roza swore that she caught a small smile on his lips, but maybe it was just a grimace, as the Moriquen straightened back up and summoned the boulder behind him to roll to one side.  
“Would you let Sam go, if I join you?” she asked the warlock before he stepped out.  
“I will consider it,” he replied coldly. 

Chapter Twenty-Three  
Priestess of Fire

The General of the Equilibrium Empire and her best soldiers had instantly ridden out to Largo Town, as soon as they had received the Gardozian squire’s message. They had arrived to blood, gore and a huge fracture in the main road.  
“Weapons ready,” General Rain ordered, “Search for survivors.”  
Her soldiers fanned out, horrified and cautious of what could have possibly happened to the peaceful town of blacksmiths and armourers.  
“There were a few survivors…” a voice rasped, coming from the water well.  
Rain, nor her soldiers had spotted the deathly still llichivar until he spoke. She approached the unnaturally clean assassin – there was blood splattered all across the town, dismembered bodies still fresh – yet he had not suffered even a scratch. Despite that, she had never seen her king consort look so wide eyed and afraid.  
“…Seven in total, I made sure that they made it to the Gardozian Temple,” Aryn informed, continuing to stare straight through the general, as if she wasn’t even there.  
“Sir Eldridge?” Rain dreaded asking, but she was unable to ignore the pile of bodies in the middle of the road.  
“Disappeared. So too did the woman he was with,” the llichivar replied distantly.  
She squinted up at the sunset, forming behind the swirl of thick clouds, “We came as quickly as we could. We felt the ground tremor, startling our horses enough to throw some of my soldiers out of their saddles. I’m no detective, but I’d say the source of the tremor would be this fissure along the town. But how? Was there an earthquake?”  
“No,” Aryn appeared terrified, biting his thin lip with razor sharp teeth. He shuddered at the mere thought of the power, “It was a warlock.” 

***

Evelina had slept fitfully all night. Even though she knew she was safe inside the imperial palace and could trust the empress with her life, Wraith still haunted her dreams. The wounds inside her mind were still so raw, but where did I go, whilst the rest of the world continued to age?  
Why can’t I remember?  
Come morning, Evelina begrudgingly rolled out of her cosy bed and adorned herself in her flame coloured robes. The room she was borrowing was much larger than what she was used to, the furniture more glamorous. As High Priestess, she had been inside Emperor Cassin’s palace many times, but never had she witnessed the private areas. And she never would, now that the Carvar Isles were at the bottom of the sea.  
Had I sunk down with them?  
That was what plagued Evelina most – not knowing. Not knowing what had happened, or what was real, or if she was even the same person anymore. One thing was for certain, she was sure that she would have been dead if Corbin hadn’t have found her. He had been the first person to find her, the first person she had laid eyes on in five hundred years. She couldn’t fathom it.  
Since almost drowning, Evelina had not found her appetite, yet as she combed her long red hair in front of the dresser mirror, her stomach began to rumble. She wasn’t sure where to get food, who to ask, or where she was allowed to roam inside Alania’s palace.  
Right on time, someone lightly knocked at her door. “Evie, are you wanting breakfast?” Corbin offered, through the gap. “Kayzu would like to meet you.”  
She discarded her comb, hurrying to fling the door open. “Who is Kayzu?” she asked.  
The half elf took a step back, his hair immaculately windswept, smiling calmly. Evelina had only ever seen him calm, cool and playful. Never before had she met any elves, let alone a half elf. She had no idea if they were all like Corbin, or if he was just the exception. Technically she was his elder, yet he had experienced so much more than her. He was a fountain of knowledge, and Evelina found herself feeling like a newly appointed priestess once again.  
“Alania’s brother,” he replied softly.  
She puzzled for a moment, “She has a brother? Shouldn’t he be emperor?”  
“There was an odd series of events that called Kayzu away from the country. Their father died on the battlefield, and Alania had to step up,” Corbin informed, leading the way down the hallway for her. “They are too close to fight over the throne, Alania’s happy, Kayzu’s happy. He always was more of a soldier, than a prince.”  
“How unusual,” Evelina said slowly. “When will we know if Sheri Curlain is going to visit?”  
“Kayzu sent one of his hawks with a message. Could be a day or two,” Corbin guessed.  
At the end of the hall, they descended the wide set of stairs down into the Great Hall, and he guided Evelina through into a dining room where a modest breakfast was laid out. Alania was already halfway through her meal, her brother sat opposite her, her husband pacing up and down restlessly in the background.  
“Eldridge couldn’t have just disappeared,” Kayzu said sceptically. “You don’t think the Moriquen have found another one of those horrible, huge wurms again? What happened in Largo, sounds very similar to what happened in Ayrev twenty years ago. Would a wurm get big enough in twenty years?”  
“It was no creature. It was magic,” Aryn shuddered, slowing his constant movement as he spotted their guests.  
“You said there was a woman with him, wearing Buckeye’s galdarkas?” Alania clarified the story that she had woken up to as soon as her husband had returned home. “Do you think she was the one who stole them?”  
“No,” Aryn was abrupt, “She was big, bulky. She moved – she moved and fought like one of our knights.”  
“Rozaline Kiezar,” Corbin confirmed, as he pulled out a chair for the Phoenix High Priestess.  
“Shit, you can’t be serious?” Kayzu shot his piercing gaze towards him.  
Evelina graciously took a seat at the breakfast table, glancing at the imperial prince for the first time. She had pictured him to look like his ancestors, dark haired, sharp featured like Cassin. He was far prettier than Cassin, however. His eyes were orange, just like the hawks that he bred and trained. She noticed that the sleeve of his right arm was folded up at the elbow. He only had one remaining hand to eat his porridge and drink his apple juice.  
“In that case, there is nothing wrong with a Gardozian knight borrowing from another,” Alania declared.  
“That’s not the issue,” her brother said with a sardonic laugh, “Theo Kiezar’s daughter has disappeared, possibly dragged underground by Moriquen. I received word that he and his family are on their way to visit the city. He will murder every single Moriquen to get her back.”  
“Well, before he does, maybe I could have a word with them? There doesn’t need to be bloodshed,” Corbin suggested, still standing beside the table, with no intentions of eating the food that would be wasted on him.  
“Ah,” Kayzu scoffed, “When did you get so boring?”  
The half elf took no offence, smiling serenely at the Avery family.  
Evelina began to eat meekly, knowing the name Kiezar from her own time. Randiz Kiezar had been an Equalizer Knight, a man that no one in their right mind would choose to get on the wrong side of.  
“You have until Theo gets here, to reclaim his daughter – I advise you rescue his best friend as well,” the empress decreed. “Sorry to have ignored you, Evelina. It isn’t usually this hectic first thing in the morning.”  
Kayzu shook his head and his eyes lit up as he silently and with amusement, disagreed with his sister.  
“There is no need to apologise, your Highness,” the High Priestess bowed her head.  
“Help yourself to my study room, there are plenty of history books there for you to catch up on. Also, if you would be so kind as to write down the history of the empire, as you remember it, I would be very grateful. So much has been lost and forgotten since Carvar was destroyed,” Alania said gently.  
“Hasn’t she been cooped up long enough?” Kayzu asked with a charming smile. “I could show you around the city first, if you like, Evelina?”  
“I’d like that, Prince Kayzu,” she accepted the offer with utmost gratitude.  
“Give me a minute to get my arm attached,” he said, excusing himself from the table.

Chapter Twenty-Four  
Gods and Monsters

Roza had never felt so lethargic. She remained in the spot where Kareth had left her, curled up in a puddle of her own congealing blood. Her clothes tattered, torn and stained red, she had no hope of escaping or fighting her way out.  
The warlock must have known that there was a limit to how much blood a vampire could lose, leaving her starved and weak, but not quite a pile of ash yet.  
Part of her training had been to fast for twenty-one days, to experience the desperation of starvation. Yet, she had never known hunger like this before.  
For the most part, Roza’s mind was blank. When it wasn’t, she would begin to hallucinate, her mind playing tricks on her. She was convinced that beside the door, a pair of glowing red eyes was watching her. But when she blinked – her eyelids heavy – the silent watcher was no longer there.  
Then the phantom voices would take the place of the invisible watcher instead.  
“What’s wrong? Do you not want her anymore?” A deep, yet playful voice asked.  
“I would, if I could take her,” a second voice growled, “If you would allow her to cross over.”  
The first man laughed freely, “The mortal made her own choice. You had a chance to take her, when her spine was snapped.”  
“I knew that she would get back up,” the second argued.  
“You’re impossible,” he laughed again, still jovial and light hearted.  
“Just let me rest,” Roza murmured against the ground, willing the imaginary voices to go away, “Stop taunting me.”  
She wasn’t aware of how many hours had slowly slipped by. It could have been an eternity for all she knew. A cruel eternity, Roza wondered if all the choices that she had made had brought her here. Or was this always my destiny?  
“What do you have left to lose?” She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not, but she could sense someone leaning over her, muttering in her ear, “Where else is there to go?”  
Go away, Roza wanted to shout, but couldn’t find the strength to move her lips.  
“Just take one sip, you’ll feel much better,” the someone advised, bringing a flask to the side of her mouth. Roza could only guess that Kareth was back, after considering his offer. “You’ll rot down here, if you don’t drink.”  
It took all of her strength, everything that she had left, to turn her face away. “Leave – me – ALONE,” Roza barked.  
Her vision began to spin and lose focus. Hands were grabbing her, rolling her over, forcing the opening of the flask into her mouth. She tried to push the elf off, but a sharp pain seared through her arms when she struggled to move.  
“Believe me,” red eyes looked down on her, “You can overcome this.”  
Bland in flavour, the blood began to seep into Roza’s mouth, awakening her tongue like a bolt of lightning all the same. Her supernatural eyesight returned, her body stopped feeling heavy. She became more aware of the hooded figure that was sat on top of her, forcing the blood down her throat.  
Roza’s strength returned as well, and she managed to fight through the pain in her limbs, grabbing her tormentor by the shoulders, she spat the flask out of her mouth, and pinned him to the ground. “You bastard,” she roared, her hands wrapping around his neck.  
“I told you it was a bad idea to get too close,” Kareth said, from the corner of her prison.  
The rage had blinded her. She slowly came to realise that she was strangling a different elf. Roza released her grip, still seething with hatred. She looked down at who she was pinning, unable to comprehend what had just happened. “Corbin?” she huffed.  
“Relax,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, letting go of her wrists, now that he was no longer trying to pry her off, “It was just animal blood…”  
She hid her relief, keeping up the façade of deranged madness – it wasn’t very hard to mimic, after all – “Why are you here? You traitor!”  
“He’s here to stop certain war,” Kareth replied nonchalantly. “He has informed me that your family is on their way to Claynore.”  
Roza turned her head to glare and grin at the warlock. “And you’re afraid.”  
“Hardly. I’m a survivalist, you should know that by now. I’m confident that we would win the war against your country, but it would hardly be worth the cost,” he mused. “But now that you too have drunk from another and truly fallen to the darkness, you shall be my little spy as well. Just like Corbin here. He tells me there was another – the one that made you – you’ll bring him and all of the other vampires that you find to me.”  
“You’ll let Sam go,” Roza ordered, gradually getting to her feet.  
“If it matters so much to you,” Kareth said with a begrudging sigh, “But if he ever comes back in an attempt to finish me off, I’ll make sure that you personally put a sword through his back.”  
Corbin arose from the dirt, straightening the creases out of his cloak. He led on in silence, showing Roza out of her cage and into the winding tunnels of the Moriquen lair.  
“Is it true? He can control you?” she asked quietly.  
“He’s a warlock that can summon the dead,” Corbin replied.  
“How does he do it? Does he take over your body? How far away can you be?”  
He appeared solemn, reaching out to a bolted shut door. “There is no distance. It is like a seed that has been planted in my mind, to serve him as my master.”  
“You tried to warn us, didn’t you? That something worse was coming, but you couldn’t tell us that it was Kareth?” she presumed.  
Corbin didn’t reply.  
She presumed again that he was unable to give her an answer. “But you managed to trick him, by giving me animal blood,” she murmured.  
He unbolted the door, freeing Sam from his tiny prison.  
“You had to hide Diana away from him as well,” Roza speculated, barging into the room to embrace her god-father.  
“What is going on? Are we escaping?” he asked feebly.  
“Aye,” she nodded, and turned to Corbin. “Can you find our galdarkas?”  
“I think so,” he said slowly. “We shouldn’t stay down here for long, though.”

Chapter Twenty-Five  
Warrior of Darkness

“Is this all that there is?” Evelina asked with disappointment.  
The prince of Claynore had acquired a small carriage to take the priestess on a tour of Aze city. They finished the last part on foot, climbing the stone steps up to the top of the wall that surrounded the city. Built for defence, not for magnificence. A place for battles rather than for a birds’ eye view to admire the city.  
“What do you mean?” Kayzu turned to her, with a quizzical glint in his orange eyes.  
“I mean no offence, your Highness, but surely this isn’t all that remains of the Great Equalizer Empire?” she fretted, gesturing to the crumbling buildings below.  
“We’re the Equilibrium Empire now,” he corrected lightly, “And you don’t have to be so formal. It’s fine to call me Kayzu.”  
Evelina was almost taken aback. “The empire I knew sprawled from one side of the island to the other. Our temples were incredible, three times the size of the ones you have here. And the palace, oh the palace was adorned with gold, from the grand steps, right up to the top of the glittering roof. Merilo city was almost a testament to that, it was sunny there. But since I’ve been here, there has been nothing but bleak skies.”  
Kayzu listened intently, raising an eyebrow after hearing her high opinion of Menos’ capital city. “Sounds like a utopia,” he said. He looked up at the cloudy sky, spotting his favourite bird soaring above.  
“I’m grateful for the tour, all the same, your – ” she stopped herself, smiling bashfully, “Kayzu.”  
He smiled back, reassuring the priestess that speaking freely was permitted. “The empire has fought in many wars, which has prevented us from expanding. Aze has been destroyed and rebuilt probably four or five times over the last century.”  
“You know your history,” Evelina admired.  
“I have a lot of free time on my hand now that archery is near impossible to me,” he said light-heartedly. The prince held his gloved, metal arm out over the wall, a signal for his hawk to soar down and meet them.  
Evelina hadn’t known him long enough to be sure, but it appeared to her that Kayzu used humour and his charisma to deal with all that he had endured. A harsh breeze blew through her and she wrapped her orange robes more tightly around her thin body. She watched the beautiful hawk land on Kayzu’s prosthetic arm as she asked, “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
“To my arm?”  
She nodded, her teeth chattering against the cold.  
“A Moriquen,” his reply was short and blunt, as the repressed memory was brought up.  
“I thought they used lethal poisons,” Evelina pointed out with curiosity, “I’m surprised you’re even alive.”  
“Luckily, a good friend stayed with me, and got me to an Eladrin healer,” Kayzu informed. He noticed the priestess shivering uncontrollably and made a move, launching his hawk back up into the dark sky. “Come on, let’s get you back in the warm. We better not keep Alania waiting too long for the Carvar Isles encyclopaedia that you promised her.”

***

Evelina did as her Empress commanded for the next two days. Confining herself to the palace’s library, catching up on all of the history that she had missed and correcting the ancient facts that other historians had hypothesised. By the end of it, she was frustrated and tired. She couldn’t help thinking that all of the terrible events of the last five hundred years could have been prevented if the wizard twins Krotan and Zula had never been allowed to grow in power. If only they hadn’t stolen and pillaged from the empire to begin with, history might have been different.  
She was about ready to retire to her borrowed bedroom, leaving her notebook open to let the ink on the pages dry. Evelina heard voices outside of the library; one sounded like Corbin, the other was a female voice that she had not heard before.  
“Perhaps it is for the best that Michael has disappeared again, if Kareth really wants to round us up so badly,” the woman said, sounding as though she was exhausted and trying to see the brighter side of a bad situation. Her accent was different, brash and rougher than how the nobility spoke. Perhaps a soldier?  
“Leave me to worry about that. You need to get some rest after the whole ordeal,” Corbin advised.  
“You can’t stay ‘ere, can ya?” the woman’s voice stopped travelling, sounding as though she was standing right outside of the library.  
“The less I know of the empire’s plans, the better,” he sighed.  
“Thanks for, well… You know what Sam and I are bred for. I don’t think I could have watched him die though,” she admitted gravely.  
“It was pure luck that Kayzu got that message from your family, allowing me to report back to Kareth,” Corbin said modestly.  
Worried that she might miss the chance to say farewell to Corbin, Evelina pulled on the door of the library to meet them. “Are you leaving?” the priestess asked.  
The woman she was with turned quickly, instinctively resting a palm on the hilt of one of her ivory galdarkas. From what Evelina had recently read, only Gardozian knights carried such weapons.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” she fretted.  
“I’m surprised you’re still awake, Evie,” Corbin uttered, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “It’s well past midnight.”  
The Gardozian woman relaxed her arm, but she still appeared to be alert. She would have been pretty if her face wasn’t blotched with bruises and cuts. She had two deep slices, one down her left eye and the other across her nose and right cheek. It was hard to tell if her wounds were fresh or if she had been wearing them for years. Her earthy green eyes seemed to be dark with all of the horrors and hardships that she had witnessed.  
“I have been busy correcting a lot of wrong history,” Evelina said.  
“Are you well acquainted with Zula and Krotan now?” he jested.  
She nodded slowly, wearily, “I now see how Menos has everything and Claynore is almost a barren landscape.”  
“Ah, home-sweet-home,” the knight joked as well, her scarred face became even harder not to stare at as she grinned maniacally.  
“There should be some spare rooms on the west-wing. I’m sure Aryn already knows that you’re here,” Corbin informed, turning to his friend.  
“I don’t doubt that,” she continued to grin through her pain. She made a move for the back of the Great Hall, leaving Corbin to bid his priestess ally farewell. 

***

Roza walked all the way to the end of the west-wing, picking the most secluded room to rest in. She knocked on the door first, checking that it was vacant. As expected, most of the furniture inside was imperial navy, and slightly dusty. Unlike the royal Hollington or Lucine families, the Avery’s didn’t have a team of servants to upkeep the palace or wait on their every need.  
She approached the vanity table, picking up a hand mirror to inspect the state of her hair. Roza was not expecting to see a mangled face that she barely recognised staring back at her. She touched the bridge of her nose, the right side of her brow where the wounds were deep and scarred over, matching the ones that Kareth had inflicted along her arms and abdomen.  
“Gods,” she uttered under her breath, fussing with her hair and parting it across her face to hide the unsightly scars. She couldn’t be certain, but with time and more animal blood, her face would probably renew itself. No wonder Sam had found it hard to look at me when we parted ways…  
After searching every part of the Gardozian temple and the forest surrounding it for Michael and coming to the conclusion that he had ran away once again, Roza had decided that there was nothing left for her there.  
She would continue to chase the dream that she had craved all of her life – to finally become an official Gardozian knight. As per tradition, a task would be set by the ruling empress or emperor. One that usually involved a lot of killing, before the title of Knight could be awarded.  
Her father had achieved it at a young age, barely even an adult. He had killed for vengeance, just as Roza had done in Ayrev. By the morning, she would know what Empress Alania would ask of her.  
Making it to the morning was another matter. Roza’s mind was restless, and still playing tricks on her. The dark walls felt uncomfortably close, the bareness of it and the solitude.  
How can I trust what is real?  
Walking out of those Moriquen tunnels and back into the bracing winds of the surface of Claynore had felt too good to be true. She had only been trapped for a few days, but it had felt like a year down there with Kareth piercing his phantom claws through her flesh and her mind.  
What if I’m still down there, and this is just an illusion?  
Roza fretted, pacing up and down, chewing on her nails. The warlock had got inside her head and under her scarred skin. She felt unclean, despite bathing at the temple and changing her clothes. She had found one of her fathers’ old, white shirts in what had once been his only bedroom. It was a bit baggy on her, but Sam had found a sturdy pair of leather trousers that had been made to fit the female knights and squires.  
Nikita had kindly offered to either repair or replace Roza’s shredded navy cloak once her mourning period was over and her tailoring shop was reopened in Aze.  
Roza found herself bunched up in the corner of the imperial room, near the window where she knew she could escape, but with her eyes open and staring at the oak door. She half expected Kareth to walk through it at any moment, lift a hand to crack her bones and bleed her dry.  
Magic like that terrified her. Nothing had prepared Roza for it, nor had her family trained her how to combat it. Her blades had been useless against the Moriquen warlock. Magic like that should not exist…  
Without realising it, she began to rock back and forth in her corner, picturing all the ways that Kareth could hurt her and her family. Lillian would not survive if her bones were crushed, or if her brothers were cut open and left to bleed to death.  
Roza could almost see why Michael had disappeared again. It was easier to be alone. She remembered one of the first things he ever said to her, “I think the King made the right choice, hiring someone outside of Ayrev. You’ll have an unbiased eye and the criminals won’t be able to blackmail you or threaten your family.”  
She had been too foolhardy to take heed of those words, from the lips of such an innocent and wide-eyed young man. It became acutely clear to her now that Michael had never mentioned much about his past, his family or friends. He was more or less a ghost. He had never opened up about his feelings or his history, did he never trust me? In that moment, Roza doubted who she was as a person.  
Michael had given her another chance, an eternal life, but he had never given his heart away. Not in the way that Vay’len had.  
She slid Vynna’s dagger off her belt, a belt that felt almost empty without the blades her uncle had given to her. She let the beautiful, elven weapon dangle from her fingers like a metronome, glad that the Moriquen had not taken it away from her and melted it down with her own steel weapons. A Nailir heirloom, a small piece of Vay, he had given it away so effortlessly… does he truly care that deeply?  
In the darkness, Roza wondered if he was capable of the same sort of magic. She couldn’t picture Vay ever being so cruel or violent, but he was still a wizard with the ability to bend reality. All I am is a grinning fool with a sword, she frowned.  
Avá virnë, she could almost hear his words of encouragement, Avá virnë, Rozaline.  
Never change…  
“What did you mean by it,” she puzzled, talking to the dagger that dangled from her fingertips. “Change is inevitable. Was it a joke? Is it because he likes me the way I am? Or at least the idea of who I am?”  
I don’t even like who I am, she concluded, waiting for the dawn to come. 

Chapter Twenty-Six  
Spirit Walker

Roza waited as her empress dealt with her court. She felt sorry for Alania, being locked inside the stone room with nobles complaining to her about the state of the country.  
She knows that everything is a mess, Roza thought, you don’t have to keep telling her. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but her hearing was unnaturally superior, even through thick walls. I suppose all elves have hearing this good as well…  
“Good morning,” a priestess in deep blue robes approached Roza, mistaking her for a palace guard perhaps. “I take it Alania is still trapped in her meeting?”  
“Aye, losing the best part of her day in there with those fancy nobles,” Roza replied casually.  
“Is Kayzu around?” she wondered.  
Roza gave the priestess a diligent glance, taking in her ice-blue eyes and snow white hair, the silver trim on her robes clarifying that she was the High Priestess of Alois. Roza made a quick double-take, “Sheri Curlain?” she asked with disbelief.  
“I’m afraid so,” she said with a modest, yet playful smile. “Have we met before? You seem familiar somehow.”  
“Kiezar,” Roza bowed her head respectively, “Rozaline Kiezar.”  
Sheri’s eyes lit up with glee, “I was about to say, you look a lot like Theo. How are your family doing?”  
“Great, yeah, good thanks. Uncle Hunter and Sathera have just had their first kid,” she said with a crooked grin. Roza found it funny how the energy around the priestess seemed warmer and brighter. It was rare to meet people with such a good spirit, charismatic and kind without even trying, people like Sheri were captivating to be around.  
“That’s good to hear. I deal with so much death and the spirit realm in between, I frequently forget that life is always moving forwards. Is it just you here, or are you travelling with your sister?” she inquired sweetly, holding Roza’s steady gaze as if she was seeing deep past her physical form and into her very soul.  
“Just me, aye.”  
“And you’ve already fought a lot of battles?” Sheri asked, sympathising with the wounds on Roza’s face.  
Mortified, Roza resisted the urge to fuss with her hair to hide the unsightly wounds, “Only recently.”  
Noticing the young woman’s discomfort, Sheri quickly changed the subject, “Do you know how Keira is doing?”  
“Things are quiet at the palace, she keeps to herself most of the time.”  
“I suppose she feels safe, having your family so close to her home,” Sheri enthused. “Anyway, they could be another hour in there. Shall we find some refreshments downstairs?”  
Roza nodded, discreetly swiping her hair further across the right side of her face. Surely she knows, she speculated, surely she can see I’m not fully dead or living.  
Awaiting them both on the first floor and inside the palace’s dining room was Prince Kayzu and the priestess that Roza had met in passing the night before.  
Kayzu was fast on his feet to greet Sheri, almost crushing her with his powerful, metallic arm as they embraced.  
“It’s been too long,” he said with an affectionate smile.  
“Apparently so,” the high priestess said with slight amusement, “I must have blinked and Georgia’s little girl has all grown up now.”  
The prince seemed confused for a moment, letting his gaze settle on the soldier entering the room behind Sheri.  
“It’s rude to stare,” Roza quipped, a wicked grin spreading across her damaged face.  
“Dear gods, it is as if Theo’s mouth has been implanted onto Georgia’s face,” he gawped anyway, “No one had warned me about your arrival, Lady Kiezar.”  
“I hope you don’t mind us waiting in here for Alania,” Sheri said gracefully.  
“Of course not,” Kayzu obliged, still unable to pull his gaze away from the young Kiezar; the child of Menos’ Champion and the greatest Gardozian swordsman he had ever known. “Has Theo sent you here for your knighthood?”  
“That’s the plan,” Roza replied nonchalantly, still wearing that uncanny and familiar grin, one that would always taunt the princes’ memories. Watching her now, it was easy for Kayzu to reminisce those long ago, wild days of debauchery and intrigue that he had shared with the legendary Theo Kiezar.  
“Do you fight as well as him?”  
“Better, I would say,” she said, pointing a finger to her own uncovered eye, “I’m not blind.”  
“That’s true,” he chuckled.  
The priestess that was adorned in orange robes scrabbled up from the table, reaching out for the other priestess in blue. “Are you the one that carries Goddess Maiya’s relic?”  
Sheri looked to her prince for guidance.  
Kayzu nodded, reassuring his old friend.  
The High Priestess of Alois reached into her thick, ornate robes and presented a flat stone, which glowed with pure white, unearthly light.  
“You are no follower of the mighty, white dragon mother, Maiya. How is it that you are bonded with the relic?” the woman with fire-red hair asked, unable to fully hide her dismay.  
“Spirits guided me to it. It was no easy process, learning how to use it,” Sheri answered modestly.  
“No kidding,” Kayzu snorted, his attention finally called away from the Kiezar in the room. “Ananette almost wiped out half of Yaima before you figured out how to banish her for good.”  
Sheri rolled her eyes, smiling playfully in response.  
“With both of the relics reunited,” Evelina said with excitement, revealing her own feather shaped, iridescent foci of power, “We can right all that has been wronged in our world.”  
“You weren’t joking in your letter then, Kayzu?” Sheri spoke breathlessly. “You really have found the relic that Muraz left behind.”  
“Do I ever lie?” the prince smirked.  
“Sorry, but who are you?” Sheri asked the other priestess.  
“I am Evelina Skadi, High Priestess of Muraz, the Iridescent Phoenix Goddess of Balance Ever-last, Fire and Earth,” she said, proud of her long title.  
“Your order, or should I say religion, died out centuries ago,” she pointed out.  
“That’s sort of the point of a phoenix, aye?” Roza butted in, folding her thick arms across her chest, “They die and then rebirth.”  
Evelina turned briefly to the Gardozian follower, “Perhaps I did die for a time. There must be a reason why I have come back now – to meet you,” she focused intensely on Sheri once again, “It is our destiny to stop the Carvar Isles from being destroyed and our people lost. I know a ritual – it will take time, but it will restore all that was taken from our glorious empire.”  
“What kind of a ritual?” Sheri asked cautiously.  
“Hopefully one that doesn’t involve sacrifices of blood,” Roza added her own concerns, recalling the horrifying history that her parents had lived through.  
“With the unlimited power of the Scale of Maiya and the balancing Feather of Muraz, we will be able to turn back the sands of time, prevent Krotan and Zula from ever stealing from us and protect the utopia that our goddesses moulded for us,” Evelina ranted, sounding quite fanatical, “As it always should have been.”  
“Now I know how I sound when I harp on about Gardoz,” Roza murmured under her breath mischievously.  
“Is that really possible?” Kayzu wondered, “You will be able to reverse history?”  
“We wouldn’t know,” Roza said, unable to hide her incredulous amusement, “We probably wouldn’t exist anymore. Without the Carvar Isles sinking, the empire would never have invaded Menos and my mother and father would never have met. Yeah, this world is cruel and fucked up, but sometimes those fucked up things happen for a reason. Do you have a better idea, phoenix lady?”  
“Does your own existence out-way the lives of so many who were lost? Doesn’t it seem like a small price to pay, to regain what our empire once was?” she argued with the outspoken knight.  
“Uh, yes, actually,” Roza unfolded her arms, looming over the priestess menacingly, “I have one job, one damnable purpose, I was born and trained to protect my country, my Empress and her people. What you are implying is almost treason. You would wipe away Alania and everyone she loves, resetting it back to Cassin Avery? How is that protecting and preserving life?”  
“You have a lot of opinions for a war crazed zealot,” Evelina continued to protest, “Back in my time, your kind truly knew how to wield those legendary weapons of yours. You served a higher cause and kept the peace. Now you are just glorified cannon fodder for this crumbling empire, worshipping your false god of death.”  
“You’re toeing that very fine line of a cultist, darlin’,” she sneered.  
“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you are the ones following made up gods, of no true divinity? That you are the heretics in this scenario?” the Phoenix priestess proposed, “You say that Krotan and Zula were defeated, yet I think that they succeeded greatly, by tricking the empire into worshipping this false and inferior pantheon of gods.”  
“You’re about to trigger my last nerve, lady,” Roza threatened.  
The tension in the room was electric. Kayzu half expected the young Kiezar to cut Evelina’s head off in one clean cut. As exciting as that would be to watch…  
“Shouldn’t we let Alania have a say in this, before we do anything brash?” Sheri said diplomatically.  
“I can’t wait to see her face when she hears of this insanity,” Roza said, backing away from Evelina, “And I thought I was the crazy one here.”  
“I must consult the spirits on this matter,” Sheri informed, retiring to the study room next door. 

Chapter Twenty-Six  
Schism

“If you would be so kind to repeat your plan again, Evelina,” Alania said, refilling her teacup. She had spent her whole morning pulling together the resources to build a memoriam in Largo Town for the citizens that had lost their lives. Having afternoon tea with her closest friend, Sheri Curlain was at least a highlight to her day.  
“Certainly, your Majesty,” the Phoenix priestess began again, her enthusiasm continuing to grow, “I believe that it is possible for me to go back to the point in time when Krotan and Zula Riveria first visited the empire, and convince Emperor Cassin not to ally with them.”  
“What will happen to us?” the empress questioned, “Will we just wake up in our beds, never knowing the wars that the twin wizards created?”  
“It is likely that we won’t even exist anymore in that timeline,” Roza pointed out, leaning against the dining room wall, adjacent to the door. Her presence was menacing – like all Gardozian followers that had a close relationship with bloodshed and death. A force of nature that Empress Alania was pleased to have on her side.  
“Our empire will never know war, or suffering,” Evelina persuaded their ruler. “Only peace, and balance, as things always should have been.”  
“Over coming our suffering is what has made this empire strong,” Alania defended passionately. “Who is to say that by stopping Krotan and Zula, someone else won’t take their place? Perhaps a worse power, that will succeed at summoning Ananette and we will have no way of stopping the corruption, as all we will know is peace and inaction.”  
Evelina fussed with the sleeves on her vibrant robes with desperation. “What of all that your consort has suffered?” she beseeched the llichivar assassin, lurking at the far end of the room. “Are the rumours true, Aryn’nair, were you not married to Emperor Cassin’s sister-in-law, Jeena Spirit?”  
He didn’t answer, only fixing his aqua coloured eyes on the priestess, reading her every move and word.  
“You could have the life that you were always meant to have, raising your child together,” Evelina pointed out, “Surely those memories still haunt you now? The terrible things that Krotan and Zula made you do. Is it true? Were you made to kill your wife and your own child?”  
“That’s enough,” Alania ordered bluntly, her orange eyes filling with tears.  
Aryn stepped forward on his talon tipped feet and Roza half expected the assassin to fade in and out of everyone’s sight to silently kill the fanatical priestess.  
He held up his clawed hand, reassuring Alania that he was ready to speak. “You only know half of what is true,” he said, his voice a low hiss. “Yes, Jeena had a child, one that was conceived before I ever got to know her. Emperor Cassin was a mad man, corrupt on power. When he was bored with his empress, he would turn to her sister instead, forcing himself on Jeena. She tried to run away from the palace, start her own uprising to usurp Cassin Avery.”  
“I was sent to retrieve her, and with no idea of what horrors awaited her in that palace, I unknowingly dragged her back to her prison of gold and silk,” he continued, revealing history that he had never told to anyone, not even his partner, Alania. “Cassin gaslighted Jeena, demanding to know why she was with-child, and why she had given up her chastity before marriage. She pointed the finger on me – claiming that I had been visiting her bedchambers and defiling her for months. I couldn’t blame her for it; I was the one who had brought her back to such corrupt judgment in the first place.”  
He took a steadying breath, remembering his first life all of those centuries ago. The beginning of the long path that had finally brought him to Alania, an Empress free of corruption. “Cassin stripped me of my titles, sentencing the removal of my hands, to be sure that I would never use Maiya’s gifts of conjuring weapons ever again,” Aryn went on, glancing at each and every face in the room, “I didn’t like that idea. I took Jeena as my hostage and we escaped the palace together. We forged a bond, built on our hatred for Cassin. She was the first person to ever show me kindness. Zaya was not my daughter out of blood, but I would have raised her as my own. We would have started the rebellion, we may have even succeeded in overthrowing Cassin, if Krotan and Zula hadn’t captured Jeena and blackmailed me into stealing the Scale.”  
He looked to Sheri, and then to Evelina. “So you see, the Avery line would have ended there. No Alania, no Kayzu. Either way, I will always be the bringer of genocide to our empire, I will always become Wraith.”  
“It doesn’t sound so bad,” the prince offered his opinion at last. “If our bloodline disappears, that would mean that we would have never invaded Concento City, and it wouldn’t be the deserted rubble that it is today. And providing that Krotan and Zula don’t find some other way to gain ultimate power, Menos will be allowed to grow without war or threats of our empire.”  
“You can’t be serious?” Roza raised an eyebrow.  
“Well, shit, why not go even further back and stop the elves from ever going to war with each other?” Kayzu said to Evelina, as he smirked with amusement.  
“Because none of us in this room were born during that period of time,” Roza said with disbelief, “This isn’t some magical teleportation, skip to any part of history you like, ritual. Or is it?”  
“It is too risky. To change the course of our history is to play with powers that only gods should have in their hands,” Alania decided, still visibly shaken up about her partner’s story. “And that is exactly what Krotan and Zula tried to do.”  
“Maybe Krotan and Zula did go back and change history to suit them, we just don’t know about it?” Roza speculated.  
“They would have needed both of the relics to perform such a feat,” Sheri said, her expression and her voice were distant, her eyes slightly unfocused.  
“Oh right, yeah,” she said, “You can’t seriously be considering this madness?”  
“Of course not,” the white haired priestess shook her head slowly, “I won’t allow it, I’m sorry. The spirits that I have come to know and love will cease to be if you change our world like this. We can rebuild what we have lost over time, learning from our mistakes, instead of trying to erase them.”  
Roza sighed with relief.  
Alania smiled at her best friend, glad that they were of same mind on the decision.  
“I – I can’t believe this,” Evelina began to seethe, “You would throw away this chance to save the Carvar Isles?”  
“That’s it then, your final choice?” Kayzu backed the Muraz priestess up. “She is offering us a world without war, and you’re throwing it back in her face?”  
“Aryn just told you, there would still be a civil war to overthrow Cassin,” Alania said.  
“Not on quite the scale of the Riveria twins sinking the Carvar Isles and brainwashing a whole nation to worship them as gods,” he argued fiercely, “They would not rise again, for the God-slayer Arkael to have to banish them back to the Underworld, only for their cultist following to almost sacrifice William and I centuries later. Keira would never have gone through that nightmare of having Ananette put inside her body, and I wouldn’t have to lose my arm and watch as the empire dies with us as the last Averys.”  
“What are you saying?” Alania uttered with disbelief.  
“I’m saying, that you can’t have children with a six-hundred year old, undead llichivar.”  
“There is nothing stopping you from starting a family of your own,” she argued back savagely.  
Roza had never imagined her empress getting into a spat with her brother – they had endured so much together.  
“I don’t think I have it in me. You weren’t there during all of those wars. The battles that claimed the lives of my soldiers, my friends, our father,” Kayzu said, his voice cracking, “The senseless feud between Menos and Claynore that we inherited from our ancestors – I still wear the scars on my back from being captured and made a display of by William’s elders. Wars that did not need to happen.”  
“You’re taking her side?” Alania couldn’t quite believe it.  
In the heat of the argument, Roza sensed Evelina’s urge to lunge across the table. She lost all self-control, leaping on top of the dining table to reach Sheri. Crockery smashed and silverware clattered on the floor, Sheri screamed with shock as she was knocked to the ground by the other priestess.  
Roza rushed in first, getting in between the scuffle, lifting Evelina off Sheri as if she weighed no more than a duvet.  
“Unhand me, you brute,” Evelina snarled, striking the Gardozian woman’s face in desperation.  
Her nails dug into Roza’s cheek, drawing a few small beads of blood. Watching her flail would have been comical, if the stakes weren’t so high. Roza grinned menacingly, pushing the priestess back into the side of the table, using her bulk to block her from getting back to Sheri Curlain.  
“Give me the order, I’ll cut her down,” Roza readied her blades, but did not draw them just yet.  
“Don’t,” Kayzu cried out. “She might be the only one who knows how the Muraz relic works.”  
Alania got up from her chair, her eyes glowing with gold light. “Control yourself,” she ordered Evelina.  
The panicked priestess edged her way along the long table, before dashing out of the room.  
Roza was about to give chase, but her empress held up her hand. “Let her go,” she said.  
“It is the right thing to do, even if you can’t justify it,” Kayzu uttered, before disappearing out of the door to join Evelina.  
“Are you okay, Sheri?” Roza offered her hand, helping the Alois High Priestess back onto her feet and into the nearest chair.  
“I bashed my head on the floor,” she grumbled, rubbing the lump that was forming on the back of her skull.  
“Kayzu…” Alania muttered in dismay, glancing around at the mess and the chaos that Evelina had left behind. “I had no idea that he had given up…”  
“He had a good way of hiding it,” Aryn consoled.  
“If there is anything I can do, my Empress,” Roza offered devotedly, “I was here to offer you my swords, anyway. Perhaps I should protect Lady Sheri, now that her life is in danger?”  
“It is a good start,” Alania agreed, calming the fire in her blood, the ancestral magical light in her eyes began to ebb away. “Will the three of you accompany me to the memorial in Largo tomorrow? I need all of the support that I can get, right now.”  
Aryn nodded, taking his wife’s hand.  
“Gladly,” Sheri replied.  
Roza nodded as well, as much as she dreaded the prospect of returning to the place where she had been captured.  
“Thank you for telling us about your past. It couldn’t have been easy,” Alania said to her consort.  
“I’m grateful to have you at my side, I won’t let anyone take that away from me,” he hissed softly. 

Chapter Twenty-Seven  
Feather Hearts

Empress Alania gave a heartfelt speech at the memorial, staying long afterwards to console the families that had suffered greatly from the attack.  
High Priestess Sheri was a beacon of hope for the people as well, offering words of wisdom and communing to the dead to reassure the survivors that their loved ones were now at peace.  
Roza found it almost too hard to watch. If only I had got here sooner, I could have saved more people. But as it was now, she had vowed to protect Sheri, to watch her back at all times. She was sure that she couldn’t be the only one that was still surprised about Kayzu’s allegiances – would he truly use his resources to take Sheri down?  
Roza was at least glad that she had a purpose now, even if the circumstances were delicate. They could at least rely on Aryn to send spies to keep a watch on Evelina and figure out what her schemes were. Killing her might have been the lesser of two evils, Roza thought.  
“It is getting rather late,” Alania turned to Sheri and her loyal, Gardozian bodyguard, “Shall we spend the night at the Gardozian Temple?”  
“I can’t think of a safer place to be,” Sheri said sweetly, “It will be good to see Sir Sam, it has been a while.”  
“You’re right about two of those things,” Roza jested, despite her internal worries.  
“You don’t think Sam will be glad to see us?” Sheri played along.  
“He’ll probably be wonderin’ why I returned so quickly to the temple.”  
“You saved me from being throttled to death and then pledged yourself to me,” the priestess pointed out, “Isn’t that enough of a reason to gain your knighthood?”  
“I dunno, ask Alania,” Roza replied with a wry grin.  
The empress smiled sheepishly, leading the way to the Gardozian Temple. Aryn followed, protecting and preserving her every movement.  
“I sometimes wonder if there would have been fewer troubles if these relics had never been created,” Sheri admitted as they travelled, “Could it be possible that Maiya and Muraz gave us such gifts as a way of testing us?”  
“Maybe the goddesses were just bored,” Roza shrugged.  
She heard Aryn emit a subtle sigh of disgust behind her.  
“I’m kiddin’,” she chuckled, “I’m sure Maiya and Muraz have some divine plan for us mere mortals.”  
As the sun went down, the swirling clouds above began to darken into a deeper shade of blue, energising Roza’s night hunter instincts. The scratch that Evelina had left on her face the day before didn’t sting so much, her hearing and her eyesight had more clarity. By the time they came to the steps of the temple, Roza was hyper alert.  
Roylf Archengrave was there to greet them, initially confused to see Roza again, and overwhelmed to see his empress on his doorstep. “We have visitors, your Excellency,” the dark haired squire said, “But I’m sure there will still be enough food for everyone.”  
“Thank you,” Alania said graciously, entering the obsidian temple.  
“Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the lavatory,” Sheri said to her stalwart bodyguard, “I don’t think I need you to follow me there.”  
“You’re tellin’ me the divine High Priestess uses the bathroom just like everyone else?” Roza joked.  
“Yes, dear sister, everybody shits,” Zachary stepped out from the humble dining room, wearing a broad grin.  
“What are you doin’ here?” she span around to face her younger brother.  
“We just landed in Claynore a few hours ago,” he said, “Expecting to find you here, you big dummy.”  
“Rozaline?” a male voice called behind her.  
She turned around quickly, and there he was, walking down the narrow hallway, like a mystical being from another world. Vay’len Nailir.  
Roza’s feet froze to the wooden boards, convinced that he had to be an illusion. Her broken, beaten and lifeless heart thundered in her chest. She wanted to put her hands on him to prove that he was real, but she had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. He did the same as her, just standing and staring in wonder.  
“Hey,” she eventually found her voice again.  
“Hello,” Vay smiled meekly.  
“How was the journey?” Roza asked playfully.  
The elf rubbed at his brows and sighed, “Don’t get me started.”  
She took a few steps down the hallway to meet him. He looked tired – withered in fact, with dark circles beneath his sapphire eyes. The sailing clearly hadn’t treated him well.  
Vay took notice of the scar across the bridge of her nose, reaching out to her. He brushed the bright hair away from her face to reveal more brutal marks.  
His angular eyes were full of sympathy, his delicate fingers inspecting the wounds on her skin felt like the most natural thing in the world to Roza.  
“What happened?” he asked breathlessly.  
“I had a run in with your secret admirer,” she tried to joke and grin, but her eyes began to burn with tears.  
“Kareth Volthan did this to you?”  
“Gods, you shouldn’t even be here,” Roza fretted, “He’ll be after you.”  
“He ordered my parents dead. He used his cursed magic on you,” Vay said, keeping his voice calm, but she could sense anger building beneath his tranquil exterior, “I refuse to run or hide away.”  
“He’s trying to gather vampires up,” she informed, “Gods knows why.”  
“I thought he was the one creating them,” he frowned with confusion, “Unless, he has been raising weaker replications.”  
“He claimed that I was different,” Roza said uneasily.  
“Well, you are,” Vay uttered, “You’re a Gardozian trained vampire.”  
“I suppose if you put it like that…”  
“Your family are still eating, I expect,” he pointed out, occupying his attention to the satchel bag on his side.  
“I don’t think I can let them see me like this,” she admitted.  
“Will the city have some sort of an apothecary? I haven’t had a chance to fully restock my supply of plants and herbs.”  
Roza wasn’t sure if he was pretending not to hear what she had just said. “I think the shops will be closed now,” she frowned slightly.  
“Then perhaps my blood could heal your wounds?” he offered, eager to help in anyway he could.  
“No, that’s a bad idea,” she replied bluntly.  
“It’s the wounds that aren’t visible that you’re worried about?” Vay presumed, “Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it?”  
Roza looked down at her feet, finding it hard to face the truth in his words. “I’m supposed to be guarding Sheri Curlain, and now I’m worried about my family being hurt… I worry about you.”  
“You found Sheri?” he said with surprise. “I’m sure she will be safe here. I don’t fault you for your worries, but your own well-being is important as well.”  
She knew he was right, but it was hard to take action on his advice. She gestured to one of the doors behind Vay’len to settle in, the Kiezar sleeping quarters.  
Vay was surprised by how small the room was, how basic the single bed was. As expected, there were weapons and pieces of armour crammed on displayed on every part of the wall, as well as paintings that depicted historical battles that extended to the ceiling. His eyes darted around the space, taking it all in as Roza shut the door behind them and perched down on the edge of the blue duvet covered bed.  
She reached for the elven dagger on the back of her belt, and held it out to her friend. “Somehow Kareth never found this on me. He probably would have destroyed it if he had,” she uttered, sounding almost apologetic.  
Vay tilted his eyes down from the colourful, intricate ceiling and onto the shimmering dagger in Roza’s scraped and scarred palms. He leant back on the wardrobe behind him, slowly sliding down to the floor until he was sat with his legs crossed and his face slightly lifted so that he could watch the resilient warrior in front of him.  
“It’s just an object,” he said, “If he had destroyed you, I would have never forgiven myself.”  
“I’m not entirely sure…” Roza hesitated on her words, struggling to find a way to explain her turmoil. She stared down at the silver and white dagger in her hands, finally she managed to croak. “I feel as though I left a part of myself down there. Kareth made me powerless. I’ve never been so afraid. I offered him anything and everything he wanted, I would have done anything to keep my god-father alive. He showed me a side to myself that I don’t think I can justify…”  
“I think you showed strength, putting someone else’s life before your own,” Vay said softly.  
“And now Kareth expects me to spy on the empire for him. He almost has complete control over Corbin Balvine. He’s the only reason Sam is alive,” she informed, still unable to look her friend in the eye.  
“You found the real Corbin Balvine, too? You have been busy,” he approved, with a relaxed smile. “But did you find Michael Zainadir?”  
“I did, but then I pushed him away. He massacred a whole crew before I could get to him, he wasn’t himself, he gave into his primal instincts. I could have stopped him, if I was there. But then I wonder, does it really make me righteous just because I use a sword to murder? I’ve killed more people in my life time than I would like to count, yet what Michael did still feels so unforgivable. The lines of morality are blurred,” she rationalised, letting Vynna’s dagger rest in her lap, to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her marked face. “What if killing isn’t the answer after all?”  
“There is wisdom in your words. I don’t think killing Kareth or the rest of the Volthan bloodline will solve anything. It won’t even bring my parents back. Kill every single Moriquen to prevent the threat? I don’t feel comfortable with being remembered for the genocide of another race,” Vay said gently, yet there was passion in his words. “My mother always taught me that if something doesn’t feel right in your heart, you should listen to it. The easy way isn’t always the best way, and it takes more courage to show mercy, than to give into your hatred and pain. I never truly understood those words, until now.”  
“Do you think she foresaw your future?” Roza joked, despite her tears, she still found a way to tease him and make light of a miserable situation.  
“Who knows,” he shrugged, and teased her back, “Won’t your god of war be upset if you lay down your weapons?”  
“Screw you,” she sobbed and laughed at the same time. Her horror mixed with humour, until her senses were overloaded. Roza was in a state of exhaustion and acceptance, and grateful that Vay wasn’t judging her. She had pictured reuniting with him to be different. She had been dreading it, imagining that Vay would have been disappointed with her choices and her actions. That she would have changed too much, or that she wouldn’t be able to keep up the façade of liveliness and charisma that brought people to her side. It was harder to admit that everything she had believed in and that had made her who she was, perhaps wasn’t the right course of action after all. She had lost her identity, and it was easy to spiral into denial.  
“What ever you choose to do, I know for sure that your family will love and support you,” Vay said, understanding how difficult it had to be for a Gardozian trained fighter to even consider changing their way of life.  
“I know, I’m lucky to have them,” she said, almost letting out another sob-laugh.  
“And if you want to be cured, I’ll never stop searching,” he promised.  
“Aye, it is a bit of an inconvenience,” she mocked. Yet she leant forwards off the bed and onto the floor, to curl up next to the elf. She put his mother’s dagger in his hand, sensing the warm blood that coursed through his body.  
“We can cure Michael as well,” he uttered, “If you feel ready to forgive him and let him back into your life?”  
“What do you mean?” Roza puzzled.  
“I thought you left home so you could be with Michael,” Vay clarified, almost forgetting to breathe, “Because you love him?”  
“I – I thought I did,” she let slip another regret, “I felt some attraction and a bond to him.” Roza paused, tracing her fingers across the fang marks Michael had left on her wrist. “But I barely know him.”  
“Okay,” Vay said, steadying his breath.  
“Okay? What do you mean, okay?” she barked, “Don’t tell me you thought there was some sort of love-triangle going on between us. That’s just gross.”  
Panic flickered in his eyes, chastising himself for opening his blundering mouth.  
“It’s more of a square, actually, aye? ‘Cos you’re in love with Princess Melody,” Roza accused. In some way, she was trying to protect her fragile heart – pushing everyone away, as usual.  
“That makes me sound very fickle, doesn’t it?” Vay murmured.  
“You and I, both. Chasing after a relationship that is never going to work,” she growled, but Vay could see the sorrow in her eyes.  
“I – perhaps I should just go,” he said, pursing his lips, holding back the emotions that were threatening to come out – exactly what he should have done the first time, on the night that Roza had left.  
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Roza calmed her temper.  
Vay put the elven dagger into his bag, and began to uncoil his legs to get up. “I wish that I had never asked you for a kiss at the ball,” he admitted.  
She raised an eyebrow in question.  
“If I had known before, how ensnared I would be by you. How you’re always on my mind, even when I try to clear it. Or how I crave your attention, how I never really feel alive without you. I ruined it all, by using you, just to prove a point,” he was up on his feet, agile and animated, as if he had been rehearsing the confession for weeks. “No matter what happens, or what you choose –”  
“You’ve been practicing,” she cut him off, getting up from the floor as well.  
“But you would prefer for me to stop?” his cheeks flushed with colour.  
“Vay’len,” she cooed.  
He braced himself, preparing for her words to let him down gently, but he didn’t care, he wouldn’t give up chasing.  
“You sailed to Claynore, even after you knew how tough it would be. Kareth vowed to me that no elf would do that for a human,” she said, standing quite rigid. “Since I’ve known you I’ve been such a mess, on the edge of tipping point. I’ve fallen over that edge a fair few times already, but you’ve always found me, grounded me back to reality. I can barely trust my own thoughts, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid if I let myself love again, I won’t be able to recover from another loss.”  
“If solitude is what you want, then I shall respect that,” Vay said dutifully, even if the words pained him. “And I promise that I will always find you.”  
Roza felt sick, there’s no way that he is this pure… “You know how reckless I am. Could you go on if I died? I can’t do that to you.”  
“That’s what makes love so precious. It’s fleeting, yet unending. It gives life, even after death. If no one was left to love my mother and father now that they are gone, then their lives wouldn’t have mattered. I love you today, just as much as I loved you yesterday, and tomorrow I’ll keep on loving you,” he said, close to passing out.  
Roza stared at him, her expression almost blank.  
“Too much?” he checked, with a sharp intake for breath.  
“No, that was really good,” she replied, unable to hide her joy.  
“Good,” Vay sighed, and discreetly wiped a tear onto his colourful sleeve. “What are we doing now, then?”  
“I’m still processing the situation,” she informed, holding her hand out as she paused. “I think if I let you walk out of this room, it will be the biggest mistake of my life.”  
“So, I can never leave?” he jested, grinning at her playfully.  
She pretended to ignore him, “I really want you to kiss me, but even being in the same room as you now is making me crave your blood.”  
“Okay, that’s different,” Vay said mischievously, “I can’t leave and you want to eat me?”  
“I know, it’s like the ultimate male fantasy, aye?”  
“If you say so,” he smiled shyly. “Well, I know of a concoction that can suppress hunger. I could whip one up, give it a try?”  
“It suppresses hunger? I’m sure there is a market for that, somewhere,” Roza said with a smirk.  
“So, is that a yes?”  
“Mmhm,” she buzzed with excitement.  
“Let’s hope the plants that I need are growing nearby,” he chuckled nervously.  
“For your sake,” Roza grinned, opening the door to the room for him.  
His eyes lingered on her lips for a second, before he dashed through the doorway like a hare. 

Chapter Twenty-Eight  
Cinnamon 

Roza sat up in her bed, mulling over her conversation with Vay. She felt as though she was dreaming. She chortled to herself, remembering the first day, when the High elf had found her in a prison cell, bewildered by her situation. If someone had told her back then that they would have grown so close, Roza would have never believed it.  
Elation and confidence fuelled her enough to leave the room and meet with her family for some after dinner wine. Lily was the first to embrace her tightly and pull another chair up beside the fireplace for her twin sister.  
“Good lords, I did not notice your face earlier,” Zach cried out. “Well, at least I can tell you two apart now.” He gestured to his near identical sisters with the wine glass in his hand.  
“It’s going to heal, eventually,” Roza retorted, “Unfortunately for you, you’ll always be an ugly bastard.”  
Their mother sighed deeply, folding her arms on the beaten up, old table. “Sam told us only part of what happened, darling. Are you sure you’re coping?” Georgia asked, relieved to see her daughter mostly in one piece.  
“Is her face really that bad?” Theo piped up.  
“I didn’t know vampires could scar,” Lily murmured, brushing back Roza’s hair to examine, finding another nasty remnant of a gash on the side of her neck.  
“I think you look powerful,” Logan complimented cheerfully.  
“Thanks,” Roza grinned, and for once it felt genuine in her heart. For once she knew that she didn’t have to prove her worth to her parents or compete with her siblings. Their unconditional love was enough to stabilise her. Even if it was just her own ambitions that had been tricking her into believing that she was worthless, it was only now that she could fully see the truth. She could thank Vay for helping her realise that, whilst she waited eagerly for his return. Roza felt years younger, innocent again and almost anxious for what might as well be her first ever kiss.  
“I thought you had already gone to bed, young man,” Theo scolded with a grin.  
“Nah, he’s just been sitting quietly in the corner for the past hour and a half,” Zach chuckled.  
“Gee thanks,” the boy chirped, poking his tongue out at his big brother. Zach returned the gesture before Logan stomped off to his camp bed next door.  
“Did Sam seem okay to you?” Roza asked, turning her body to face the table where her parents sat.  
“Aye,” Theo nodded, “After the initial shock of him seeing my glorious face again after so long.”  
“He said you looked old,” Zach reminded, refilling his wine glass.  
Georgia snorted loudly, “He’s not wrong.”  
“You see, this is what the stress of raising you in particular does to a man,” Theo moaned melodramatically.  
“I bet you really missed us,” Lily said with a mild smirk.  
“You can’t even begin to imagine,” Roza smirked back.

***

There had been no choice involved. He hadn’t planned it. He couldn’t change the way that he felt, how every time Roza entered the room his mood lifted. When their eyes met, his heart skipped a beat. Every moment with her was a joy, an exciting rush that he never wanted to let go of. Vay’len couldn’t pin point the exact moment that he had fallen in love with Rozaline Kiezar, but he knew that what he was feeling was real and eternal and there had been no choice involved.  
But could she ever love me in return? He wondered as he scoured the forest late at night for the ingredients needed to at least steal a real kiss from the woman he held so dearly.  
Once he was satisfied with the plants that he had collected, Vay hurried back to the obsidian temple to find the small kitchen and begin concocting the hot drink that would hopefully sate the cravings of a vampire.  
“You were quick,” Roza admired from the hallway.  
Vay flinched a fraction, almost spilling the pan of boiling ingredients on top of the stove. In his haste to begin procuring the remedy, he had forgotten to shut the barn styled door to the traditional kitchen.  
“It smells very spicy,” she noted, entering the room and quietly shutting the door behind her.  
He couldn’t be sure how late it was, but Vay could imagine that most of the temple occupants had already gone to bed. “I picked up lots of cinnamon and ginger root before leaving Barass. It should mask the flavour of the other plants,” he informed. He found a teacup and poured the murky mixture out, taking a delicate sip to test the flavour, before handing it to Roza.  
“Should I be alarmed by its colour?” she grinned mischievously.  
Vay took a step back, biting his lip nervously as he watched her take a sip.  
Roza grimaced slightly at the potent taste, before knocking it back as if it was a shot of cheap rum, slamming the teacup down on the counter behind her. The bitter and spicy flavour overwhelmed her senses momentarily.  
He came forwards again to meet her, offering the scent of his wrist to her. “Has it worked?”  
“Hold on, I’m just trying to keep the stuff down,” she joked.  
“Charming,” he teased. Vay lightly brushed the back of his hand up her cheek and tucked Roza’s hair behind her ear.  
The motion gave her shivers. She felt light on her feet, and another gentle caress from the elf would surely have her floating. Instead, he brought his face close to hers.  
Roza shut her eyes, bracing her hands behind her on the kitchen countertop.  
“You doing okay?” Vay checked.  
She nodded, intoxicated by the promise of his affection, and not the scent of his blood for once.  
Vay tilted his head to the side slightly, pressing a light kiss on the corner of her lips. His cinnamon scented breath lightly tickled Roza’s cheek as they both savoured the intimate moment.  
She used the strength in her arms to push her body up to take a seat on the wooden countertop, still trying to comprehend the way Vay cared for her.  
“Can you forgive me for dragging you to Ayrev and taking you away from your family?” Vay asked his voice soft with regret.  
“I needed a change,” she replied, cupping Vay’s face in her hands to gaze into his bright blue eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive.”  
“But if it wasn’t for me and my family, Kareth would have never hurt you,” he said, gently tracing his thumb over the scar near her eye.  
“I’m sure I would have found some other way to endanger myself. Don’t blame yourself for my foolishness,” she argued, smiling playfully.  
At last, Roza’s smile was genuine and unabashed, as if she was finally allowing herself to be happy. It warmed Vay’s heart to see her this way.  
She rocked forwards on the counter to let her lips meet with his again, still holding his narrow face in her hands. He gravitated closer, standing in between Roza’s knees, caressing her back with his slender hands. For once, Roza felt like a normal person, craving Vay’s touch and not his blood. Just when they thought their passionate kisses could go on forever, the door to their left swung open.  
Vay was swift enough to pivot towards the stove and pretend that he was intensely interested with the pan that he had not long emptied. Yet he was unable to hide the colour that was blossoming from his high cheek bones.  
“What are you two doing up so late?” Zach accused, walking into the small kitchen.  
Roza hopped off the countertop, plastering an arrogant grin across her wicked face. “Vay is making me some anti-vampire serum,” she half lied.  
Vay silently blessed her, for she was a better actor than he would ever be.  
“It smells like a spice market in here,” her brother grumbled, opening a top cupboard to bring down a glass.  
“It’s better than the smell of raw flesh, so stop moaning. I could ask you why you’re up at this hour, too, y’know?” she asked, thinning her eyes at the young man.  
“Can’t sleep,” Zach said through a yawn, filling his glass with water from the copper tap.  
“Join the club,” Roza joked.  
He glanced at his big sister, noticing how one side of her hair was tucked behind her ear. He raised a dark eyebrow as he drank his water. “I think I’ll give you two some privacy,” he winked.  
“Zachary,” she near lunged for him, “You better keep your big mouth shut.”  
“Why? Mother will be so pleased to hear that you’ve found a nice man – uh I mean elf – to settle down with,” he teased.  
“I’m serious,” Roza pleaded.  
Vay took a step back from the stove, unable to hide his guilty expression as he remained silent.  
Zach turned to her, frowning slightly, “Are you ashamed of Vay’len?” he asked, practically defending the elf’s honour.  
“Of course not,” her voice began to rise.  
“But you’re not really over Joseph?” her brother wondered.  
Roza gritted her teeth, her fingers flexed at her sides.  
Zach wasn’t fully sure if his sister was about to punch him, even though he knew he deserved it.  
“That’s not fair,” she seethed.  
“Lying to yourself and leading Vay’len on isn’t fair either,” he argued back.  
“I know I’m a piece of shit, okay? You don’t have to tell me,” Roza broke down, tears forming despite her rage.  
“You’re far from it, maella’nin,” Vay spoke up, using some sort of elvish term of endearment that neither of the Kiezar siblings understood. He approached Zach, giving off an aura of calm. “Rozaline has expressed her concerns and fears to me, and I know that we both have a long way to recover our broken hearts. All things considered, I think that it would be best if we tell Georgia and Theo ourselves, when we feel ready to do so?”  
Zach blinked slowly, his jaw slack with disbelief, “I was just bluffing. So you two are actually interested in each other?”  
“You little snake,” Roza glared.  
“I can’t believe you fell for that, sis,” he said, mildly smug.  
Her eyes flitted to the tall elf beside her, a grin forming through her annoyance. “You know a spell that can wipe people’s memories, aye?”  
Vay’s eyebrows dipped with confusion for a moment, until he realised her game. “Oh, certainly. It can be very painful though. Best avoided, in most cases,” he lied quite rigidly.  
Zach seemed to get the point. “I won’t say anything,” he sighed, “But you owe me one.”  
“I owe you a knuckle sandwich, aye. Get out of ‘ere, go to bed,” Roza ordered sternly.  
He gave them another cheeky wink before leaving the kitchen with his glass of water.  
“Well,” Vay uttered, folding his arms and pursing his lips nervously. “Fancy a midnight stroll?”  
Roza nodded, and led the way out of the temple. 

Chapter Twenty-Nine  
Hidden Place

“You poisoned me,” Roza groaned. Their walk through the dark forest had been pleasant and an escape from all of her problems, until a strange sort of nausea set in her gut. She stopped to brace herself against a tall fir tree.  
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Vay teased, reaching out to check her temperature, expecting to find sweat across her forehead.  
“Was there garlic in that potion? Vampires can’t have garlic, right?”  
“That’s just a stupid myth,” he said, only sounding slightly confident. He fetched a notebook from his bag, checking his own references and research. “At least I think it is.”  
“Maybe you can take my mind off it,” she said, looking up at him with a promise of passion in her eyes.  
Her offer was tempting, to say the least. He snapped his notebook shut, giving her an almost wry smile. She’s dangerous and wild, and everything my father ever warned me about… so why can’t I get enough of her? Vay pondered, as he watched in awe, Roza biting the side of her bottom lip whilst she unthreaded the cord on her baggy shirt, exposing her tanned shoulders to the night air.  
He had seen most of her bare torso already, tending to her burns for weeks, yet it didn’t make her slow reveal any less tantalising. “Roza, I think we should… wait,” Vay urged distantly, discovering Roza’s lack of wrapping around her breasts. Embarrassed, he looked up to the treetops surrounding them, taking an interest in the moon and the stars.  
“Oh, I thought you and Melody, had y’know…”  
“Hardly,” he uttered. Flustered, Vay dragged his fingers over his scalp, pulling back the black curtains of his silky hair from his elongated face. “It is no disgrace to you, it’s just Eladrin are raised, differently…” He glanced back down at her wicked, wonderful face, fearful of her reaction. To his relief, Roza didn’t appear angry or ashamed.  
“Do I need to corrupt your traditional ways?” she joked.  
“Jamie Claylorne’s grandfather is the only Eladrin I know who broke the convention. He claimed it was for research. I wonder if that was a lie, though, to protect his reputation.”  
“Are you worried about your reputation?” she asked, abnormally sincere.  
Vay appreciated her concern. “I suppose I’m not, otherwise I would have never left home.”  
“Out of interest, why did you leave and venture into human lands?” Roza wondered.  
“Are we really doing this now?” he chortled, rubbing at his left eye.  
“Aye, it is distracting my gut ache,” she informed, reluctantly pulling her shirt back up.  
“I knew Jamie’s grandmother – that’s basically how I tracked him down, even though he had no public records. Countess Bella Hölzer, she was an imperial, like you and she was close friends with my mother,” he explained, “She told me all about the Silverstone University, and how magic was dying out in the human lands. Again, making Jamie’s magic such a rare case.”  
“Funny, Lorne never mentioned that he’s a Count,” Roza said with amusement. “Did you have big plans on becoming the headmaster of the university, then?”  
“I’m not really sure. I was quickly fascinated by the royal court, evidently. Eladrin have no such sovereignty. There are so few of us, and so little changes, why would we need a King or a Queen? I was so intrigued by how differently humans live, how some of them revel in luxury, whilst others barely had enough money to feed their families,” Vay continued, “I felt compelled to help the less fortunate. It is what my mother would have done.”  
“So you found a job in up-keeping the law?”  
“Indeed, and all I found was corruption. I didn’t want to make a target for myself for the criminals, there is only so much I can do with my magic,” he admitted.  
“Which lead you to me?”  
He nodded, resting his hand under his chin. “I did my research. I knew that your father had quelled criminals in the past, and your mother had been Menos’ Champion. Surely, R. Kiezar would also be a natural born leader, fit to be Captain of Raydon City, I thought.”  
“What ever happened to the previous Captain?” she asked light-heartedly, content to listen to Vay reminisce until the sun came up. “Were you the one to discover his murder?”  
“Not personally. If the rumours were true, Captain Brillo had got in deep with gambling debt, not even the money that the Ravens were blackmailing him with could clear his name,” he informed, pulling his collar a little higher as he began to feel the chill in the air. “I knew that his replacement needed to be outsourced and free of the same vices.”  
Roza laughed freely, tipping her head back slightly, “Little did you know…”  
“Yes, you weren’t quite what I expected.”  
“True, but at least I win when I gamble with coin,” she boasted mischievously. “You never gave up on me though. Was that for your own pride, or because you believed that I could make a difference?”  
“Maybe, both,” he admitted slowly.  
“Are Eladrin taught to never lie, as well?” she teased.  
“It seems to be more of a human thing,” he retorted playfully. “You’ll just have to teach me.”  
“You’ll teach me Elvish in return?”  
“If that’s what you want,” Vay said hopefully.  
Roza leant back on the fir tree, letting her gaze roam freely across his form. “I see two sides to you, Vay’len Nailir.”  
“Oh?”  
“Aye, you can be stoic, proud and reserved, but you can also be sweet, playful and innocent,” she told him what she had noticed over time.  
“And which do you prefer?”  
“All of you,” she cooed.  
In the faint light of the moon, Roza saw Vay’s face glowing as he beamed, humbled by her words. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “Gosh, you have such a way with words. It isn’t fair.”  
“I’m good at getting what I want,” she grinned.  
“Or you just know what people like to hear,” he proposed.  
“I can teach you that, as well,” Roza said, taking his soft, scholars’ hand in her own coarse, warrior’s hand.  
“What will it cost me?” he murmured, letting his fingers intertwine with hers.  
“Are you flirting with me, Mr Nailir?”  
“Possibly,” Vay said with a coy smile. “What is it you want to hear?”  
She barely hesitated, gazing into his brilliant, bright eyes, “My name, from your lips.”  
“You really are an egomaniac,” he mocked.  
She flicked the end of his nose, grinning broadly. “Say it.”  
“Rozaline.”  
She tugged on his hand, pulling him closer to her and the tree. “Are you kiddin’ me?”  
“Lady Rozaline Kiezar,” he uttered, “Maella’nin, vanima’nin megilindar.”  
“Ooh, mysterious,” she swooned, brushing her fingers beneath his sleeve. “You’ve got to at least give me something, my little chastity elf.”  
“Excuse me?” he chortled.  
“At least show me your ankles,” Roza joked.  
“How inappropriate,” Vay played along. He kissed the top of her head, smiling with amusement. “Do you think another one of your siblings will come find us again?”  
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”  
“How’s your stomach pain?” he checked.  
“I’m not sure. I might need a few more kisses to feel better,” she charmed, leaning into his lithe body.  
Vay rolled his eyes, bending his knees slightly to level his lips with hers. Once again, his kiss was delicate, shy and savouring. As if they had all the time in the world. He wondered what Roza was thinking, feeling; whether she too wanted the night to last forever, or if she was going along with his advances out of pity or even lust.  
She raised her hands to the thin lapels on his iridescent robes, pulling him tighter to her body with unexpected urgency. She kissed Vay’len in return, as if there was no dawn, no tomorrow. Feverishly, Roza clung to him, their lips and tongues moving together in an unspoken rhythm. More, Roza wanted more than Vay was yet to offer. She had him almost out of breath, as she stole more kisses from the elf.  
But he did not relent. Not even learning a new spell or overcoming a difficult incantation is as exhilarating as her…  
She growled softly against his lips, some primal part of her began to reawaken. Just as Vay was contemplating on giving up his traditions and his plans to make love to Roza somewhere special, she pushed herself away from him, colliding into the trunk of the tree behind her. The evergreen tree shifted a fraction, pine needles cascading over them, bark flying across the mossy ground.  
“Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly.  
“Aye, I think the potion ran out,” Roza uttered, digging her nails into what remained of the trees’ bark.  
“That’s odd, it should have lasted at least twenty or so hours,” he figured, straightening his hair and his fine robes. Struggling to compose himself after losing control of half of his senses and most of his thoughts, Roza had undoubtedly consumed both. I’ve never lost control like that before… I wonder, if this is what lust feels like?  
“What can I say, you’re just so desirable?” she teased alluringly.  
“I better quickly brew some more then,” he fretted.  
“Calm down, lover boy,” Roza smirked, controlling her bloodlust long enough to stroke at his silk covered arm. “It’s near mornin’. I need to get back to Sheri before somethin’ terrible happens, no doubt.”  
“True,” he agreed, clearing his throat and the desire that seemed to pulse through every fibre of his body. “I wonder if she still remembers me.” 

Chapter Thirty  
Classical Correspondence 

Roza tracked down Sheri having breakfast in her loaned room with the empress, as the rest of the Kiezar family was taking up all of the seats inside the dining room. Aryn was absent, no doubt repeatedly circling the temple, watching for danger.  
“I’m sure Kayzu will come to his senses soon,” Sheri comforted her friend. “He’ll come back home.”  
“I just wonder where he could be,” Alania uttered, nibbling at her crumpet.  
Vay was tactical enough to leave a quarter of an hour gap between seeing Roza again, knocking lightly on the bedroom door before intruding on the women.  
“Empress,” the Eladrin greeted, bowing lower than Roza had ever thought possible.  
“You’re no Gardozian knight,” Alania pointed out, “Unless they are training elves here now?”  
It took the High Priestess a short moment to realise why she recognised the black haired elf. But she soon launched herself off the end of the bed to clasp her hand around his. “Vay’len,” she greeted cheerfully. “I doubt you remember me. Vynna neglected to mention in her letters how tall you’ve become.”  
He blushed slightly, her delicate hand still connected with his. “You – you kept in contact with my mother, all these years?” Vay stuttered, glancing briefly at Roza.  
She appeared rigid, staring at the connection that the wizard and the priestess were making.  
“Yes, although I haven’t heard from her for months,” Sheri replied.  
“I’m – I’m afraid she was killed,” he informed sorrowfully.  
Her jaw dropped and she embraced him without hesitation. “How did I not know?” she murmured into his chest. “How did I not see her when I walk with the spirits?”  
“Elves transfer their spirits… differently.”  
“Of course,” Sheri pulled away, looking up into his eyes – so full of pain and sadness. Yet she couldn’t see into Vay. Most people gave off a spectrum of colour and light for the priestess to see beyond their physical form, but his was harder to read. Harder to judge. “Your gods are different,” she said distantly.  
Alania set down her plate, remembering something Corbin had told her a long time ago. “Elves never truly die,” she echoed.  
Vay nodded slowly. “You wouldn’t happen to still have those letters, Lady Curlain?”  
“I certainly do,” Sheri reassured, “But they are stored away in my room at the Spire.”  
“I’d like to see the Glade Spire for myself,” he requested.  
Roza wanted nothing more than to hold Vay in her arms again, kiss away the tears that were threatening to escape from his bright blue eyes. She held her ground, remembering her duties. “Won’t that be the most obvious place for Evelina to find you?” she warned.  
“And Evelina finding you would be bad?” Vay speculated.  
“That’s one way of putting it,” Roza grinned.  
“Fortunately, I have a way of making a person untraceable,” he said.  
“Sounds ominous,” Sheri joked.  
“True, I probably could have worded that better,” he said apologetically.  
“It will mean that there will be a short boat ride to Vane,” Sheri informed, heading across the room to grab her bag.  
“Fantastic…” Vay grumbled, “Please allow me to say my goodbyes to the Kiezars before we set off.”  
“I’m afraid you’ll still have to put up with one Kiezar,” Roza jested, “Not that I don’t trust your wizardry or anythin’.” 

***

“Are you leaving already?” Logan asked with disbelief. He faced the wise wizard with scrutiny, whilst Zach and Lily went head to head with just their fists behind him.  
The rest of the Kiezars had bid their best wishes to Vay’len and Roza, yet her youngest brother couldn’t comprehend the fact that his new friend was no longer going to stay and share books with him.  
“We just got here,” Logan pointed out, pushing his lengthy golden hair away from his eyes, “There is so much more spaces in my notebook to fill. I still need your help, Vay.”  
“Y’know,” Roza turned to her parents, who were overseeing the practice in the temples’ courtyard. “Logan could come with us, if that’s alright with you, Ma?”  
Her father scoffed loudly, turning an ear to his daughter. “Do I not get a say?”  
“Do we really need another sword fighter in the family?” Georgia brought up.  
“Are we having this debate now, my love?” Theo near swooned at the fierocity of her tone.  
“I’ve been thinking it for a while now. What if Logan is taking after his Uncle Hunter – skilled and creative?”  
“Are you tellin’ me there is nothin’ skilled and creative about slayin’ werewolves?” he jested, grinning broadly.  
“You know what I mean,” Georgia rolled her eyes. “It isn’t all brawn and reflexes in battle.”  
“Logan is standing right here, y’know,” Roza pointed out.  
“Yeah, I can hear you talking about me,” the boy spoke up, encouraged by his sister.  
“What’s more dangerous? Leaving him here, where I’m pretty sure dark elves are watching our every move, or taking him to Vane? An island that has seen little to no battles, ever,” she persuaded.  
“Hmm, the eldest of our blessed offspring does have a point,” Theo mocked, brushing his fingers across his lips in contemplation.  
“Then Logan can read all the damn books he wants, instead of being bored here,” Roza added.  
“Please?” Logan begged.  
“Sounds good,” their father approved, “Just don’t come back an Alois priest. No offence, Sheri.”  
“A Kiezar priest? I wouldn’t think it possible,” Sheri said with a sweet smile.  
“I can go?” Logan gaped with surprise, checking for his mother’s approval as well.  
Georgia nodded, not taking her eyes off her beloved son.  
“I’ll go get my bag!” he exclaimed.  
“I won’t let him out of my sight,” Roza promised her parents.  
“I know you won’t, sweetheart,” Georgia cooed.  
Sheri turned away from the temples’ garden, to wish Alania a safe journey back to Aze. “I hadn’t expected meeting the Phoenix priestess to be so harrowing,” she said, remaining calm and cordial. “I wish that I could have spent a few more days with you, but I have even more research to conduct than before.”  
“I know,” Alania uttered, embracing her white haired friend. “Troubles seem to keep on stacking up. Stay safe.”  
Aryn offered the High Priestess of Alois a small nod, before stepping aside to let Alania climb into her carriage.  
Logan returned to Roza’s side, out of breath with his coat half on and his satchel bag brimming with papers. “I’m ready to go!”  
Sam Eldridge hurried down the steps of the temple to embrace the two Kiezar siblings one last time. “Farewell, again, Rozaline,” he smiled faintly.  
“Catch ya later,” she winked, missing the kind-hearted man already. Their eyes met briefly, and Roza was reminded of that foul place where she thought they would have rotted for eternity. She thought of the secrets that he kept even from her father; that he wanted to be with her Aunt Leona, but the cost was too much for him to justify it. Roza would give Sam her blessing to marry her aunt, yet she wasn’t sure if the rest of her family would do the same.  
I love you, too. I’m so proud of you, her godfather’s words echoed in her heart. The only bit of hope that had kept her fighting against Kareth Volthan.  
A second carriage awaited Sheri and her travel companions, to take them to the southern port. 

Chapter Thirty-One  
Borrowed Knowledge

Roza helped carry Sheri’s belongings onto the small Claynorian ferry that would take them to Vane, a small island off the coast of the mainland.  
Vay did the same for Logan, taking the boy’s hand as they climbed the steep boardwalk. The ocean was ceaseless, bobbing the ferry from side to side. The elf felt uneasy already.  
“You’ll be okay,” Logan said, prompted by his friends’ paler than usual complexion. “The journey will only take one night.”  
“In that case, it can’t be too bad,” Vay said optimistically.  
Shortly after opening his mouth, a heavy rain pour fell from the grey clouds above, almost as if the gods were listening and it was their sole purpose to ruin his day. Vay rolled his eyes, hurrying behind the others to get below deck and stay mostly dry.  
“The captain said that your usual room is available for you,” Roza informed Sheri, taking in the finer details of the luxury ferry. The narrow corridors were lined with shelves to display small ornaments and plants. Roza grinned wickedly as Vay squeezed by, almost clipping his forehead on the shelves several times.  
The High Priestess opened the door to what would be her room for the night. Again, Roza was surprised to see a long sofa inside, a cabinet for drinks and an actual bed.  
“Call me old fashioned, but I never knew transport could be this comfortable,” she uttered, placing the priestess’ bags on the end of the crisply cleaned bed.  
“One of the many perks of the job,” Sheri winked, “Would you like a drink?”  
“I would love to, but I should probably remain focused on my job.”  
“Do you think Evelina put assassins on this boat?” she asked, aware of her own naivety to danger.  
“It’s the Moriquen I’m more worried about. They seem to just appear at the worst times,” Roza replied. She briefly brushed her index finger across her lips, frowning at the thought.  
“You’re so much like Theo,” Sheri blurted, pouring herself a glass of wine at the far end of the room.  
“I am?”  
“Same inflections in your voice, you even do that little lip-swipe motion when you’re both deep in contemplation,” Sheri compared, “You’ve got his eyes, too.”  
Roza curled her lip, not at all surprised that she had picked up her fathers’ habits. She had grown up watching his every move, perfecting the blade just as every Kiezar had done from a young age. “You knew him before he met my mother? I can’t imagine how harrowing that must have been to witness,” she joked.  
“My father had arranged for me to marry him,” she said with an amused smile.  
“I had almost forgotten about that,” Roza admitted. The fact that the elegant and wise priestess in front of her could have been her mother was an odd concept. This time she was highly aware of her finger brushing her lips. “How did you escape that fate?”  
Sheri emitted a bewildered laugh, “Did Theo never tell you?”  
“He felt bad ‘cause you’re half his age?”  
“Well, that and Alania’s uncle, Anon Avery ordered him to kill my father,” she said, taking a seat on the long sofa, and began unlacing her boots.  
“Oh, the history books neglect to mention a Kiezar being involved in Advisor Argyl Curlains’ treason against the empire,” Roza murmured with genuine surprise. “Father kept that one to himself, as well.”  
“Odd, I know,” the high priestess shrugged. “I thought your father would have claimed me anyway and treated me like his property. Every other man in my life had done so. He was surprisingly not at all that way. He shocked us even more by marrying a Menosian.”  
“Scandalous, back in those times, I’m sure,” Roza mused.  
“I’m sure you won’t disappoint, either,” Sheri said, piercing her with those ice-blue eyes, swirling the red wine in her glass.  
For a moment, Roza felt like there was someone behind her, another set of eyes raking up and down her body, studying her.  
Sheri looked towards the bed, smiling pleasantly. Her eyes shut briefly, but her lips did not move.  
Roza could only guess that the Alois follower was communing with one of her many spirits, far beyond the physical world. “I’ll let you get some rest,” she suggested, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”  
“Thank you, Rozaline,” she said, her mood still lifted and at peace.  
Roza left the clean room, shutting the door behind her to stand guard. Mulling over the enlightening new facts and wondering what other parts of history had never been written down. She bet Logan would want to record such a thing, tomorrow, I’ll tell him tomorrow…  
Left with only her own thoughts and a long, sleepless night ahead of her, Roza couldn’t help but feel utterly alone. Even with Sheri on the other side of the door, Roza couldn’t help but worry about how vulnerable everyone else around her was.  
Take these to the lava pits, destroy them, Kareth’s terrible, rasping voice taunted her from the darkest pits of her mind, what is a Gardozian Knight, without their galdarkas?  
It was an effort for her to suppress a pitiful cry. “No, go away,” Roza murmured under her breath. She raised her hands up to her ears, forcing the Moriquens’ voice out of her head.  
She saw instead a vision of her god-father, eyes wide with terror. Not for his own safety, but for hers. A long nailed finger pointed at Sam’s neck, ready to slit him open  
What is this flea to you? Kareth’s voice continued to torment her.  
Roza couldn’t tell if the warlock had cursed her, or if she had truly, finally lost her mind.  
“No, stop it,” Roza whimpered, sliding down to the floor. The cold, hard floor, darkness circling around her.  
Wouldn’t death be easier?  
Roza slammed her hand down on the floor in front of her, rage growing in her core. Such unexplainable anger, burning inside of her. She wanted to fight, kill, kill, kill.  
You have to wonder, why would he let you leave? What plans could he be setting into motion?  
The crippling paranoia was her own, but the outburst of anger belonged to someone else.  
“Roza? Roza,” Vay called with urgency.  
She felt her world turn for a moment, as the elf propped her back up against the door. She blinked rapidly, finally focusing on his beautiful, blue eyes. His face made all of the bad memories disappear. She checked her belt for the Buckeye galdarkas. Still there, not taken away by Kareth again.  
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she admitted breathlessly.  
Crouching down next to her, Vay put his hand against her cheek, stroking his thumb gently across her skin. “I’m the one that is meant to get seasick,” he quipped.  
Roza smiled with relief, realising that she was not stuck in an illusion. Reassured by his touch, that this was real. “I think Michael is in trouble, again,” she uttered.  
“Did you have another connection to him?” he asked curiously.  
She nodded, “I think he might have got to Vane already. We were going to go there together…”  
“I wonder how that works,” Vay mused, “The bond, I mean. I wonder if non-vampires can link the same way.”  
Roza settled her hand on top of his hand, the one that was still softly caressing her face. “Or it could just be Kareth messing with me,” she frowned.  
“I’ll give you a full examination when we get to the Spire.”  
She snorted, “Will you now?”  
Vay cocked a dark eyebrow, shaking his head slightly. “Good to see you’re back to your normal self.”  
She sat up a bit taller, letting her hands fall to her sides, subconsciously checking the galdarkas again. “Has Logan gone to bed?”  
He withdrew his hand, turning to sit on the floor beside her. “Yeah, he’s asleep.”  
“Will you stay with me?”  
“Always, Maella’nin.”  
“Are you gonna tell me what that means?” she asked, teasingly.  
Vay’s cheeks reddened slightly, “My Beloved.”  
“May-la-nin,” Roza slowly practiced. “I bet you never pictured being here, with an agaryulnaer?”  
He appeared impressed by her Elvish pronunciation of bloodsucker. She had learnt by now that the proud Eladrin’s only tell was the slight raise of his brows. “No. But there is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”  
“Charmer,” she smirked.  
“It’s true,” he murmured, curling up closer to her. “Dear Aithera, I feel terrible. I imagine this is what being hung-over feels like?”  
“You’ve never had a hang-over?”  
“Why does that even surprise you?” Vay said, sliding down further, until his head was resting on her lap.  
Roza peered down at him, bemused slightly. He was like some sort of baby deer, delicate and rare, resting against her side. She had never expected him to open up to her like this, to drop all of his guards and defences and pride. To be so openly affectionate, in the middle of a public corridor, was very unlike the Vay’len she knew.  
She rested her fingers against his high cheekbone, marvelling at the smoothness of his skin.  
His eyes tilted up for a moment, appreciative of her soothing touch. He then closed them, trying to forget about the rocking and rolling of the ship as Roza toyed with his long hair.  
Roza parted his silky, ebony hair behind his elongated ear. Sometimes she forgot that he was a completely different race, far from any human man. A hundred years old, yet still so innocent and kind.  
Vay’s arm wrapped around her, his eyes were still shut as he slipped his hand under her shirt and rested a warm hand against her waist. It warmed the ice in Roza’s chest, to see him so peaceful. She knew more than ever that she would give anything to protect him. She would give anything to make this moment last forever. 

Chapter Thirty-Two  
Bracing Winds 

Sheri Curlain and her travelling companions ported in Vane sooner than predicted. A strong eastern wind had filled the sails of the transport ship, propelling it swiftly towards the small island.  
Vay was highly relieved to be back on land, even if it was only for a short period of time. It would all be worth it to study the letters that his mother had been sending to the High Priestess for years. A much needed link to Vynna Nailir.  
“Something isn’t right,” Sheri said uneasily. The wind whipped her navy robes around her as she hurried on foot towards the Glade Spire. The only building on the island, the sky high, round tower hand been standing for centuries, yet the bricks were clean and un-weathered.  
Roza took long strides to keep up with her. “What do you mean?”  
Sheri was silent, a look of despair setting into her face. She began to run towards the great tower. “No – no,” she cried.  
“Will you wait with Logan?” Roza called behind her, sprinting to get to the door of the Glade Spire first.  
“I’ll keep him safe,” Vay vowed, standing tall in front of the boy.  
She appreciated it more than language could ever convey. She could sense the danger and the horror. The Spire reeked of blood before she even burst through the door. Roza covered her mouth and nostrils with her sleeve, trying to not let the scent of it overwhelm her.  
“Peter?” Sheri cried, pressing herself against Roza to steady her weakened knees. “Le’ah?”  
Blood splattered the common room, soaking the carpet a darker shade of blue, almost black. Books were torn apart and pages scattered, clothes ripped and discarded. Yet, there were no bodies.  
“I’m scared,” Sheri admitted, wanting to disappear into the spirit realm to escape the horror.  
“Is anybody here?” Roza called sternly. She glanced back at Sheri for a moment, “You should probably wait outside with Vay.”  
“My priestesses and priests,” she trembled, “I owe it to them, to find them.”  
Roza wasn’t sure if she was proud of the High Priestesses’ bravery, or irked by her recklessness. She took her by the arm, guiding her along whilst shielding her with her own broad body. They carefully went up the spiral staircase to the next level of the tower, met with more blood stains. There had definitely been a torturous struggle for survival.  
With super fast reflexes, Roza peered around the grey brick of the archway, checking for danger in the next room. In the brief inspection, she spotted a man slumped against a tall bookcase, blood pooling around him. Perhaps they had found one of the Alois priests.  
His head was down, messy brown hair covering his face. “Come back to finish me off?” he slurred, sensing the movement of the approaching women.  
Roza went in, keeping Sheri close behind her. “How – ” she couldn’t fathom how the priest was still alive, with that much blood lost. Her question was quickly unnecessary as the vampire mustered enough strength to raise his face to her voice.  
“Roza?” Michael’s green eyes flickered, struggling to focus his vision on her. “You took… your time.”  
“Gods,” Sheri gasped, hurrying forwards, blinded by her kind and caring instincts. “Let me help you.”  
Roza snatched her back, dragging her away from the wounded and likely feral vampire. “You can’t,” she warned.  
Michael laughed raspingly, his fangs coated with blood, his face crusted with it. “Still don’t trust me?”  
“I’ve been in your state. Worse, in fact. I know how maddening the hunger can be,” she justified. Roza found it hard to see him this way. He was full of holes, as if someone had repeatedly stabbed him in the chest until he could barely move.  
“I don’t think you know, at all,” Michael sighed. “After tasting you, nothing else has compared. Everything else is like eating wet soil.”  
“Then, why did you leave?” Roza asked desperately. “Why do this?”  
He lowered his eyebrows, confused. “I didn’t do anything.”  
“You lost control again,” she accused, “I knew it. I sensed it on the journey here. Your uncontrollable rage.”  
“I – I didn’t,” he croaked, “I swear to you, I never hurt anyone.”  
“Where are all the Alois followers, Michael?”  
“I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he puzzled, “Shit, I don’t know what happened.”  
Roza locked eyes with Sheri, still holding her tight. “Can you sense spirits here?”  
The High Priestess paused for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm her self down. “No, it is as if they all vanished.”  
“That’s good, aye? Maybe they escaped, and all this blood… is just from Michael? But who else could stand up to the speed of a night hunter?”  
“Do you think I did this to myself?” he murmured.  
Roza shrugged, “I’m not sure. Perhaps Vay can figure it out. He is the analyser after all.”  
“You have Vay’len with you?” he asked, mildly surprised, yet slipping in and out of consciousness.  
“Aye,” Roza nodded, growing more anxious by the minute. She couldn’t imagine how Vay and her brother were feeling, waiting outside, dreading the news.  
“I’ll tell Vay’len to join us?” Sheri checked.  
“We’ll go together.”  
“No need, I can send a spirit to pass the message on to him from here,” she informed, closing her eyes for a brief moment.  
“That’s handy,” Roza mused. “Will you make sure that he covers my brothers’ eyes?”  
“I have done,” Sheri replied gently.  
“And you’re sure there is absolutely no one still in the Spire?”  
“Not living,” her icy-blue eyes flicked between the wounded vampire on the floor and her stalwart bodyguard. “I can only sense Logan and Vay’len on their way inside.”  
“You knew from the start, didn’t you?” Roza asked nervously.  
“I did notice a lack of… energy around you. In the same way that I could never sense Corbin’s aura. Almost as if your spirits have separated from your physical forms, lost and far beyond even my reach,” she confirmed grimly.  
“Great. Zach always did say I was soulless. Now this just proves his point,” Roza grumbled, attempting to make a joke out of the dire information. It was the only way for her to cope with the chaos in front of her.  
Silent on his feet, Vay appeared at the top of the steps, his hand still lightly pressed across Logan’s eyes.  
“I see,” the elf uttered uneasily.  
“When can I open my eyes?” Logan asked eagerly.  
“Just through to this room. Then I will show you something really neat,” Vay promised, forcing his tone of voice into a cheerful lilt. 

***

Vay was gone for a short while, no doubt showing Logan spells to inspire and occupy him.  
Sheri found an armchair, void of fresh blood and closed her heavy eyelids. “I’m going to crossover, for a while,” she informed. “Perhaps I can find answers there.”  
Roza watched as the High Priestess of Alois slipped deep into meditation, her spirit fully connecting with another realm entirely.  
“You must remember something,” Roza approached Michael, glancing at his unsightly wounds. They sailor’s shirt that she had found for him weeks ago was completely red and riddled with holes.  
“Dear Viscar, what happened to your face?” he focused on her a bit better now that she was close.  
“A Moriquen captured me. Did you even think to look for me?”  
“You didn’t want me to get hurt,” he argued.  
“Yet, you still managed it,” she berated, “And terrorised this sacred place at the same time.”  
“Yaima would be better off without me,” Michael’s voice quivered, accepting his fate. “You’ll make it quick, won’t you, Rozaline?”  
She knew what he meant. She had felt the same way in Barass when she had asked her father to end her existence. Roza sat down beside her friend, just as her father had stayed with her, comforted her through the misery. “We’ll figure something out,” she said.  
Michael buried his face in his hands. “I should have never come here,” he said with regret.  
“Hang in there. Vay will find a cure for us. He’s already found a way to stop the cravings,” she reassured.  
“We wouldn’t be this way if it wasn’t for him. He brought the vampires to Raydon,” Michael passed around the blame, striving for closure.  
“We can’t know that,” she uttered.  
He sobbed into his palms. Roza rested her hand against his head, stroking his hair in comfort. “We can’t change the past. We can only look to a brighter future,” she echoed the words that her mother had taught her, after losing Joseph. It hadn’t been easy to make sense of the words when she was consumed with grief, but now Roza could appreciate the wisdom. 

***

After overhearing more than he wanted, Vay returned to the gory room, sensing the tension between the two vampires. At least Roza is on my side, he reassured himself.  
She looked up from the floor at him, still comforting her wayward friend. She didn’t have to move her lips. Vay already knew what she would ask. “I have given Logan a series of wizard cards to learn,” he informed.  
“Is that so he can learn how to tell the future?” she jested.  
“Potentially,” he said nonchalantly.  
Roza masked her surprise with a tight smile. “I haven’t had a chance to check the other levels. I won’t let these two out of my sight,” she uttered, nodding to where Sheri was sat, her conscious separate from her body.  
Vay nodded back, briskly taking the stairs up to the higher tiers of the tower. The elf came back a few minutes later, holding a piece of paper in his hand, no larger than a postcard.  
“What did you find?” Roza asked.  
“Nothing, no blood, no bodies, no signs of survivors,” he replied, holding the paper in his hand up, as if he was scanning the room for close details.  
“Then, what’s that?”  
“A blank bit of paper.”  
“I can see that,” she smirked.  
Vay glanced at the room and then at his paper, a sketch began to form, copying the crime scene. The paper filled with colour, as if the wizard was holding a mirror up.  
“Are you painting with your mind?” Roza observed with awe.  
“We call it Illimmay’hari in Elvish,” he said, focusing on his magic. “Image copy.”  
“I’m sure there is a better translation. Can you make portraits?”  
“Why? Do you want yours done?” Vay teased.  
“Who wouldn’t want this lovely face on their walls?” she countered with a grin. “You could make money as an artist, instead of documenting murder scenes.”  
“Well, I never thought of that,” he admitted, slipping back downstairs to copy an image of the evidence in the entrance room of the Spire.  
Roza waited, realising that she had never actually witnessed Vay investigate a scene before. He remained calm and focused on the surface, yet his mind was hard at work, processing all of the possibilities and suspects.  
The Eladrin approached her and Michael, tucking his copied images into his bag, gracefully avoiding the puddles of blood on the floor. “May I examine your wounds, Mr Zainadir?”  
“Okay,” the vampire murmured weakly, straightening his sore back up against the bookshelf. He began to unbutton his stained, striped shirt, glancing down at his ruined torso.  
“Why aren’t his wounds healing?” Roza fretted, although she was sure she already knew the answer.  
“It’s a good sign. It means that he most likely hasn’t drunk from an innocent priest or priestess,” Vay speculated, opening his satchel to find his medical supplies.  
“So, all of this blood is actually mine?” Michael hoped. Prayed.  
“Or your attacker,” he said, and began cleaning up the dried blood around Michael’s multiple wounds. “These are gunshot wounds. I’d say the bullets are still imbedded in you, and that is why you aren’t healing, Mr Zainadir.”  
He laughed with slight relief, but soon began to splutter and cough due to the pain in his chest. “Honestly, we’re not in Ayrev anymore. You can just call me Michael,” he winced, focusing on the elf’s electric blue eyes.  
“M-maybe it was in self-defence,” Roza rationalised, even if the thought of someone shooting her ally was too close too home. Too much like Joe’s own fate.  
“We will have to ask Sheri when she is out of her reverie, if it is likely that any of her followers carry rifles,” Vay said coolly. “Will you help me lay him down, Roza? It will be easier to extract the bullets that way. We might gain more clues from those. Would you like anything for the pain, Michael?”  
He began to scoot his body lower, almost as if he didn’t want Roza’s help. The pain made him dizzy and Michael thought he would black out from it, sickened by the notion that his torso was riddled with bullets.  
“No. I deserve the pain,” he said through his teeth.  
Roza knelt down by his head, looming over him, her bright hair falling over his shoulder. “Don’t be so melodramatic,” she chided.  
Michael stared up at her, feeling lost in her emerald eyes.  
“If you’re sure,” Vay started. He pressed his palm to the first hole in Michael’s chest, prying out the bullet with his magic.  
His eyes began to stream with tears again and he writhed in agony. The third extraction was just as painful as the first. Roza’s hands clamped down on either side of his shoulders, but Michael couldn’t be sure how much force she was using to keep him still. The fourth bullet was particularly low in his abdomen, he was sure he could feel his guts being reordered to recover the metal inside him. He dug his nails into the bloodied rug in reaction to his distress. He began to fight furiously to get free of Roza’s grasp.  
“Get off,” Michael snarled, losing his last few shreds of humanity. His arms shot up from the floor and found Roza’s throat.  
She grinned down on him, no stranger to violence. She had danced with death far longer than he had.  
Michael sat up quickly, some of his wounds beginning to heal. He focused intently on the lithe elf, the root cause of his pain in so many ways. He could have just been a normal soldier, he could have lived a normal life, he could have returned to his small village and asked Tallulah the Mear priestess’ daughter to marry him. Instead he had got caught up in the wizards’ orchestrations, and turned into something less than human. A shell of his former self, a sleepless and unendingly hungry creature of darkness.  
“There is only one more to do,” Vay reassured gently.  
Michael lurched forwards, pushing off from Roza to reach the elf, to rip his throat out with his teeth. High Elves probably taste even better than humans…  
His fangs sunk into soft flesh and blood seeped into his mouth at long last. Giving into his cravings and desires felt so natural. Michael stared straight ahead, locking eyes with the wide eyed elf. He slowly came to the realisation that Roza had stuck her arm out to protect Vay’len, and his teeth were deep in her forearm. It was her sweet and familiar blood pouring into his mouth.  
She shoved him back down with her other arm, still offering her blood. Above all else, Roza was a guardian and a protector. Even if it was true that she no longer had a soul.  
“Carry on, Vay,” she instructed. The grin had vanished from her face, replaced by a firm scowl.  
Even if she didn’t say it with words, Michael could tell from the look in her eyes that she was scolding him, see, you can’t be trusted?  
Michael’s mind went numb, as the last bullet pulled from him burned his flesh. He couldn’t help but bite down harder on Roza’s arm to get through the pain.  
She endured it, as she always did. He could only hope to be as strong as her one day.  
“Done,” Vay said, his hands shaking slightly as he wiped the blood away from the collection of bullets.  
“We’ll find who did this to you,” Roza promised, releasing the pressure on her fellow vampire.  
He slowly unclamped his jaw, unnerved by the marks that he had embedded in her arm. It took a while for her wound to heal, compared to the holes in his torso. “I’m sorry,” he uttered.  
“So am I,” she said, feeling at fault for forcing him to acquire the taste of human blood to begin with.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for finishing the second book in the trilogy. I have literally only just started the last book of this series, I may even decide to make it longer than 3 books if I think of a way to expand Rozaline's story even further. It may come to me adding a few chapters at a time, just so you guys don't have to wait 6 months for the resolution of the story to be completed. I have come to realise that I have posted my books in a very strange way to the archive - where most people would do a few chapters at a time, I have been posting whole books in 2 parts - so I applaud you for reading this far!  
> I do tend to write in a condensed manner. I can't stand reading books that waffle on about places and exposition when all I really want to know is if my main characters are going to get together or not. I like to think of my style similar to a manga or a comic book, it could easily be adapted with drawings and the characters drive the plot most. If you are desperate for more, and don't mind supporting me, I have a trilogy of books on Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/expediency-of-the-heart or just search 'Expediency' and the books under my Pseudo 'G E Monica' will come up. They are set in a different universe, but the writing style is more of the same (if not more polished), plus lots of juicy romance.


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